Seriously?
by Camille2
Summary: Ultimately, the story of a soul that was lost. Jack's soul.
1. Chapters 1 through 8

Title: "Seriously?" Author: Camille Summary: Ultimately, this is a story about the journey to find a soul that was lost. Jack's soul. Along the way, we'll have romance, sex, humor, drama, a little S/V angst, arguing between friends, blackmail, and a little game theory. We even have Francie spending a quarter and buying a clue. (Syd is the oblivious one this time.) I don't know how the story ended up this way. It started out as a simple 5-10 page S/V story from Will and Jack's point of view. It was supposed to just be a humorous little character piece on those two men and their often-interesting relationship as a way to get S/V together. A little bit of fluff. And then the story, like life, took an unexpected detour. Or two or maybe three. The first detour starts when Will puts his hand on Jack's shoulder in Chapter 2. (I swear Will did it all on his own, I had nothing to do with it!) You'll have to search for the other detours on your own.  
  
Timeline: This starts after the Counteragent, but before the end of the Abduction. Then, we are in an alternate universe and timeline. Consider this piece a story arc during the course of a season; sometimes the particular plot line gets a lot of screen time and sometimes just a snippet.  
  
Rating: R (original NC-17 version has been sent to Cover Me archive. Main difference will be in chapter 19, which is heavily edited here for this R version. Also some differences in chapter 33.)  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Blah, blah. However, I feel compelled to point out that I wrote the bulk of this in late December. (You'll see why this is important at the end.) Really, the ending was my own idea.  
  
Ship: Jack/Will, S/V N.B.: For those who have asked, I wrote story first, then found the quotations at the heading of each chapter.  
  
  
  
I have no road ahead of me where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself.I seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. (Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude)  
  
Chapter 1: And so it begins. "Life is like a game in which God shuffles the cards, the devil deals them, and we have to play the trumps." (Yugoslavian proverb)  
  
Will Tippin knew he was being ridiculous for being proud of tracking down Jack Bristow. It's not like he was Sydney on a mission in some exotic location battling bad guys with esoteric electronica and brute force. It's not like Jack was hiding or anything and if he hadn't lost Jack's number, there would have no subterfuge at all. All he'd really had to do was ask Syd for her father's cell phone number under the pretext of wanting to loan him a book. Syd had looked at him a little funny, but with everything on her mind lately, just wrote down the number for the secure line without asking even one question. And actually, he loaned Jack lots of books. Hardly spy material, Tippin, he reminded himself. He was getting a little too caught up with being a teeny tiny cog in the CIA, just like he formerly was a little too enamored of himself as "Undercover Investigative Reporter" (in capital letters). After all, real life is not like a Dick Tracy comic strip. Real life doesn't come in day-glow colors and it hurts a lot more, especially if one were a Bristow.  
  
The difficult part had been convincing Jack to meet with him. Between the CIA and SD6 and Irina, the guy had a pretty full plate. "I know you're a busy man and all, Jack, working to prevent global domination by the handmaidens of the devil, but."  
  
Jack actually chuckled. Well, that was good. One thing Will had learned about Jack was that if you could access his sense of humor, you were more likely to get what you wanted. Fortunately for Will, Jack seemed to find him amusing at times. Well, to be honest, Jack seemed to find him amusing most of the time and not, Will knew, because his jokes were that funny.  
  
"But I wanted to talk to you about Sydney. I'm worried about her."  
  
That sobered Jack up quickly. There was silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. "Okay, Mr. Tippin, we'll meet. How about Sunday night? I'll pick you up at Sydney's. We'll go to Francie's restaurant. What is the name of that place, anyway?"  
  
"Lunch."  
  
"Lunch? What kind of name is that? Does she serve dinner?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"That's not the best marketing strategy I've ever heard of. Anyway, if asked, you can tell the girls you harassed me into finally eating there. Syd keeps telling me I need to stop in to show my support to Francie. Humph. Afterwards we'll drive around or find some hole in the wall and you can explain yourself."  
  
"Wow, Jack, that's quite a bit of free time you have on Sunday nights."  
  
"Well, there's nothing good on tv that night anyway."  
  
"Yeah, sure. I can't really see you sitting around watching tv."  
  
"Well, actually Sunday night is the History Channel's 'Guns and Glory' night. I'm positively glued to the television for that."  
  
"Was that an actual joke?"  
  
"You have not yet received a security clearance high enough to know the answer to that question, Mr. Tippin. See you Sunday." Click.  
  
Chapter 2: "In answer to the question of why it happened, I offer the modest proposal that our Universe is simply one of those things which happen from time to time." (Edward P. Tryon)  
  
Francie had almost dropped a full tray of dishes when Jack and Will walked into the restaurant. She had rushed over to ask if there was anything wrong with Syd and when Jack assured her they were just there to eat, she stared at him for a moment and said, "But why? And with Will?" "You do serve dinner here, do you not?" "Well, of course." "You wouldn't know that from the name of the restaurant, Francie. You might want to rethink that name. Anyway, we're hungry, you serve food. Seems like a simple equation to me," Jack said dryly. Will didn't think Francie got the joke and asked him later why he didn't just tell Francie that they wanted to help support her new venture and Jack gave him one of "those" glances.  
  
"You know it wouldn't kill you to let people know you can be nice."  
  
"Well, actually, it could, Tippin."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Over their meals, Jack and Will had their usual discussion about books. On Will's part, the conversation was a deliberate attempt to make true the lie he'd told to Syd. On Jack's part, it was a discussion about books. The lie was Will's after all, and such a minor one that Jack gave it no thought whatsoever; after all in the context of other lies, what was this one? After dinner, Jack and Will got back in Jack's car. By now Will knew better than to say anything until a Bristow pulled out some handy dandy piece of high tech anti-bugging equipment. Somehow he didn't think Jack was going to use a lipstick. Sure enough, Jack's electronica du jour was a card case, with working mini calculator. Will had to examine it; this stuff was really cool. Jack rolled his eyes and began driving while Will worked up his courage.  
  
"Mr. Tippin, are you talking to yourself?"  
  
"No, I'm just practicing what I want to say. Jack, I know I am not the best investigative reporter on the planet."  
  
Jack actually cracked a smile, "Well, actually your stuff isn't half bad."  
  
"Hey - isn't that what you told Sark in Taipei? I remember being so shocked when you said that." Will laughed.  
  
"I'm surprised you remember hearing that."  
  
"Unfortunately I seem to have near total recall for those days in hell. I wish I could forget them."  
  
"We could have the CIA quacks help you lose those memories, or I could do it for you, if you wish, Mr. Tippin."  
  
"Jack, first of all, the notion that you know how to selectively remove pieces of my memory is more than a little scary. Second, given what we've been through together - I ruined your clothes by bleeding all over them, after all, in Taipei -- I think we're really way past the point when you should be calling me Will."  
  
"I suppose you do owe me a new coat. Now what is this conversation about?"  
  
"Why did I track you down and why am I wasting your valuable time?" Will asked with a smile.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Well, as I said, I know that I am not always the most observant person." Jack disagreed, "Oh, I don't know, I don't think you give yourself enough credit." Will shrugged,"Thanks. But - have you noticed that Sydney seems different lately?"  
  
"Different how?"  
  
"Do you always answer a question with a question?"  
  
"It's a good strategy in my line of work, in my life."  
  
Will thought for a moment. He supposed it was a good strategy - define precisely what the other person wants so that you give away as little as possible and never make assumptions. But what a way to live. Cripes.  
  
"Okay. I'll define 'different.' I understand that the stresses you and Syd face every day are way beyond anything I can imagine. And then we add Irina's return into the equation and I cannot even begin to fathom how either of you get up every morning and keep going. But since the changes in my own life, I think I have some inkling that you just keep waking up and facing life only a daily basis."  
  
"That would be wrong, Mr - okay, Will. In our line of work, you can never think about just today. You always have to be thinking about the long term or you may not make it through today."  
  
"That's what I am afraid of."  
  
"What do you mean?" Jack straightened and Will knew that Jack was sensing something too.  
  
"Am I right? Do you feel it too? Do you feel like Syd is just trying to get through each moment - that's she's not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel?"  
  
Jack said nothing for a moment. "Continue, please. What are you seeing?" he asked as he pulled into the parking lot of a nondescript bar.  
  
"I don't know - it just seems like there is this new layer to her stress. When she relaxes, there's almost a frenetic quality. She seems preoccupied all the time, but way beyond preoccupied, if that makes any sense."  
  
Jack's gaze narrowed on him. "No, actually, it does make sense. I've noticed it too. But, well, let's be honest. My daughter has no reason to confide in me about her emotional life."  
  
"Even though you are the one person who, given what I think the problem is, can understand her better than anyone else? The only person who can truly feel empathize?"  
  
"That would be wishful thinking on my part, I'm afraid."  
  
"Jack, I know you love Sydney more than anything. I see the pride in your face when you look at her. But, I know you two have had your problems." Jack turned away, of course. Discussions about emotions were always difficult for him.  
  
"And you know those problems are my fault."  
  
Will disagreed, "Well, not entirely." Jack's head jerked back around as Will continued, "One thing I have observed is that Sydney has a tendency to ignore what she doesn't want to deal with or avoid hearing things she doesn't want to hear."  
  
"That makes a certain amount of sense, of course."  
  
"Of course. The truth can hurt. But from my mindset, the reason why I do what I do or what I used to do for a living, the truth is necessary. It's always better to start with the truth."  
  
"I don't know if I would agree with that."  
  
"That's not a surprise. Syd said once that it's a gesture of love to deceive the people you care about in order to protect them. And in the case of Danny, for example, I see her point. But my point is that Sydney seems to be avoiding a truth she needs to deal with in order to protect herself from what she imagines will hurt."  
  
"And that truth would be, what?"  
  
"Well, there's probably two truths. The first one is Irina's motive for wanting Syd in her life." Jack snorted in response to Will's commentary. "But the second truth - the one I think may be the last straw and has caused this preoccupation, this new layer of stress -- is her relationship with Vaughn."  
  
Jack's eyes opened a smidgen wider. "What do you know about that?"  
  
"What do YOU know?"  
  
"Do you want to trade information?"  
  
"I think that's how we do it in both of our professions."  
  
"True." They stared at each other for a moment and Will sighed.  
  
"Okay, there's NO chance you're going to go first, is there?" Pause.  
  
"That's a rhetorical question, Jack. I'll start. The first time I met Vaughn, I was surprised. All Syd said about him was that he was smart and wouldn't waste my time. Like my time is so valuable these days. Anyway, I was expecting someone like you. Older, battle-scarred, I guess. And instead, there's this relatively young guy who seems, well, like a nice guy, someone I might be friends with. Except for the fact that he was giving off all these territorial vibes about Sydney."  
  
"Yes, he does do that."  
  
"He does? Does anyone at the CIA notice?" Jack smiled slightly, but didn't answer.  
  
"Okay, moving on. Are you aware that Syd and I accidentally met Vaughn and his quote unquote girlfriend in a bar a few days before Francie's surprise birthday party?"  
  
"Yes. That must have been somewhat.uncomfortable."  
  
"Uncomfortable? Uncomfortable? If you mean that as one of your typical vast understatements, Jack.and how did you know, anyway?"  
  
"Vaughn sent an agent to pull the security camera tape from the club. Get on with the story already."  
  
"So you saw the tape?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Of course?" Jack raised an eyebrow. Maybe Will did not want to know just how Jack knew what he knew.  
  
"I'd be interested in your description of the..event. I could see Syd's face but not Vaughn's. You were in the way of the camera angle."  
  
It was Will's turn to snort. "Sorry. If I had known, I was being taped for Jack Bristow's later viewing, I'd have moved over."  
  
"Focus, Mr. Tippin? Sarcasm is neither necessary nor desirable at this juncture."  
  
"Well, I suppose you had to see both of their faces. And actually, although I know Syd well enough to read when she's feeling pain, it was the look on Vaughn's face that stopped me cold." Will stopped and was the one to look away, in embarrassment.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"This is somewhat embarrassing for me, Jack, but for a while last year I felt I was in love with Sydney." Will paused as Jack rolled his eyes. "You knew that, didn't you? Sometimes you really creep me out."  
  
"Is this story about you or my daughter?"  
  
"Okay! And then when I found out about the CIA and then SD6, I still felt like I was in love with her. But eventually I realized that I do love her, but as a friend." Jack looked at Will skeptically. Was Will really over Sydney? He hoped so, they would never have been a viable couple. Tippin needed someone to take charge of him, prevent those flights of imagination from killing him; while Syd needed someone like, well, like Vaughn or the man Vaughn would become when he started to learn a few more of life lessons. "Jack, pay attention here, I'm spilling my guts about how I thought I was in love with Syd. Let me tell you, the whole time I thought I was IN love with her, I never gave her a look like the kind Vaughn gave her. It was so..intimate, so pained...I felt like I was intruding just by being in the same room with the two of them. Any fool could see how he felt about her. And in front of his girlfriend, no less."  
  
"Ah yes, THE look."  
  
"You know the look?"  
  
"Everyone knows THE look. But in front of Alice? For God's sake, the man is an agent and he did not control his emotions in public? What was he thinking? What am I saying? He's hopeless."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I told him."  
  
"You told him? You had a conversation with him about it?"  
  
"Of course. It doesn't bother me to ask nosy questions, after all. When I couldn't get anything out of Syd that night after we left the bar, I decided to just ask him the next time I saw him for a contact."  
  
"You tried and failed with Sydney, so you thought you'd try Vaughn? Good instincts. I begin to see why you were, are, a reporter. You have my attention, Will. What happened at this contact?"  
  
Will tried to describe for Jack as best he could. Vaughn had called him to give him his test results. Although eager to hear them, he found that he was almost as eager to see if Vaughn was just going to ignore the last contact in the bar. He had a feeling the older man would do exactly that, but he was determined not to let him. Vaughn had good news for Will on the test results and spent a while telling him the next steps. Vaughn spoke almost in a monologue and then hurried at the end, asking quickly if Will had any questions.  
  
Here Jack interrupted with a chuckle, "That was a mistake, asking YOU if you had any questions."  
  
Will countered, "One of many, in my opinion."  
  
"I'll second that." Jack concurred.  
  
"So, I said, 'Yeah, I've got a question. How long have you been in love with Sydney?'"  
  
Jack choked. "You're kidding?" He laughed, hard.  
  
"Nah, I told you - I ask obnoxious questions for a living, or at least I used to. Anyway, while he stared at me with this look of total shock -"  
  
"You mean, he didn't stare down at his feet?"  
  
"Well, actually, he did. I said, 'So, if you're in love with Sydney, why are you with this other woman?'"  
  
"Ah, yes, the $64,000 question. What did he say?"  
  
"He asked, 'How did you know that I'm in?" and then stopped himself. I just waited. And then he said,"  
  
"Let me guess, something along the lines of, 'This conversation is as inappropriate as a relationship between an asset and her handler'?"  
  
"You got it. And I told him that what I felt was inappropriate was that he could look at Sydney like she was the last drop of water left in the desert and he was dying of thirst and then go on a date with someone else. I also said that he was kidding only himself if he thought the relationship between him and Syd was merely that of an asset and her handler. That no man looks at someone who is just a coworker like that."  
  
Jack began chuckling, "I think I'm starting to like you more and more, Will."  
  
"Moreover, I said, didn't Alice notice the look? And was it fair to her?"  
  
"Good questions. Really good questions."  
  
"You think so?" Jack Bristow was complimenting him?  
  
"Vaughn is confused. He needs someone to ask him those questions, since Syd is apparently not doing so. Maybe you are a good choice."  
  
"Confused about what? It seems pretty clear to me."  
  
"To me, too. But unlike Vaughn, I learned long ago, as did Syd, that the rule book is only useful in so far as it helps you achieve your goals."  
  
"Are you saying the ends justifies the means?"  
  
"No, not always. I am saying that you have to keep your eye on the true goal and if you do that."  
  
"Assuming your motives are good and you can keep focused on."  
  
Jack cut Will off. "Yes, let's keep focused, here. So, what did Vaughn say?"  
  
"He said that he had tried to explain about Alice a couple of times to Syd, but she kept cutting him off. And I asked him, what in the name of God was he going to say that she might want to hear-- from her perspective?"  
  
"From her perspective, he acts like he loves her, but he's going out with another woman. Just how do you explain that satisfactorily?"  
  
"Exactly. Exactly. I asked him if he had talked to anyone about his feelings and the situation? He just glared at me and rolled his eyes, just like you do when anyone tries to talk about emotions. Is that in a class they send you to at double agent school or something?"  
  
"Double agent school? For god's sake, Tippin." Jack muttered.  
  
"Just a joke, Jack. So, anyway, I said to him that he needs to talk to someone about this, but the CIA shrink is probably not a good idea."  
  
"Correct in the sense that she'd get him pulled off Syd's case immediately."  
  
"That's what I figured. I also said to him, that, hey, I'd love to listen, since Syd's welfare is important to me, but I am not the person who matters most in this equation."  
  
Jack's head jerked up. "What did you say?"  
  
"That I'd love to listen but I'm not the person who matters most?'"  
  
"Vaughn must be dying. That's very close to what Irina said to him."  
  
"Irina had a conversation with Vaughn about Syd?" Jack held up two fingers. "Wow. Well, that explains the look of panic he had on his face when I said that."  
  
"Conversations with Irina do tend to make one feel panicked." Jack said dryly.  
  
"Especially when she's the person who killed your father. Hey - do you think that has anything to do with Vaughn's reluctance to pursue a relationship?"  
  
"Honestly, no. I think Vaughn could forgive Sydney anything, just as I honestly think she forgives him for Alice. Frankly, I wish she'd get angry. But, my concern--"  
  
"Our concern," Will corrected.  
  
"Our concern is what this is doing to Sydney. Ordinarily and as I said to Vaughn long ago, in our line of work, love is a liability and ---"  
  
"Do you really believe that? Did you really say that to him?"  
  
"Yes, I do, yes I did. Love is a weakness for others to exploit and one that can lead to errors in judgment."  
  
"That's sad, Jack, very sad."  
  
"Perhaps, but true. However, in this case, since neither Syd nor Vaughn can do as they were trained and compartmentalize their emotions, I am forced to agree with you that something needs to be done. They need to resolve it between themselves or perhaps Syd needs a new handler, which would not be my choice. They are an excellent team. But the situation needs resolution and sooner rather than later."  
  
"I have a question before we go any further. Are you going to convince yourself that it makes no difference whether or not they are together, whether or not they are happy, as long as they can do their jobs?"  
  
"In our line of work, happiness is relative. What matters is that they are alive and the people on their teams who depend upon them, are alive."  
  
In anger, Will snapped, "Like you've been alive for the last twenty years?" If looks could kill, Will knew he'd be dead right now. That had not been a smart comment to make to a man like Jack Bristow. He'd pay for it sooner or later. He kept a careful eye on Jack's eyes, which had narrowed alarmingly and Jack's fist, which had clenched immediately upon hearing Will's comment. He knew what that fist could do, he'd been on the receiving end of it, although he had realized subsequently that Jack had probably not used all his strength on that occasion. Slowly, Jack unfurled his fingers and took a deep breath. He looked away from Will.  
  
"Only the fact that you are concerned about Sydney is keeping you from serious injury, Mr. Tippin."  
  
"Okay, sorry. I apologize. I crossed the line."  
  
"Do I need to point out again that this conversation is about my daughter. Not you? Not me? Moving back to the original point, you're right she is preoccupied, because she chooses to spend so much energy ignoring the situation, trying to be strong about it, and trying to maintain hope that it will all work out in the end. And I think that's why she doesn't want to discuss it with him. As I said before, the situation needs resolution."  
  
"He needs to force her to listen, which will be very difficult. You know what's she's like when she doesn't want to hear something," Will warned.  
  
"Or we have to encourage her to get angry enough to force the issue herself. This isn't going to be easy."  
  
"She's afraid to find out that she doesn't mean enough to him for him to wait for the end? That there is no hope? Who wants to hear that? And that's not the issue, as we all know if the two of them were being honest."  
  
"It seems to keep coming back to honesty, in your mind, doesn't it?"  
  
"I'm big on the truth, yeah. And why wait, when the kind of work you all do is so dangerous? Shouldn't you try to live life to the fullest right now? That's what I asked him, what I told him. I told him he owed it to her and to her well-being to tell her and let her deal with the truth even if she doesn't want to hear it. That if he were honest and she were honest---  
  
"The truth shall set you free?" Jack asked sardonically.  
  
"Hey - you have your world view, I have mine. I also told him that if I'd had any chance with the person I loved like that, I'd move heaven and earth to be with her and break every stupid rule ever written or unwritten that was keeping us apart. That I didn't understand why he wasn't following his heart when it was clear that Syd had given her heart to him. That if he can't even control himself when he's with his supposed girlfriend, for God's sake, he's hopeless."  
  
"That's was quite a speech, Will."  
  
"I am a writer, Jack." The two men were silent for a moment. Will spoke first, "So, what's next? You're the master strategist."  
  
"Syd wouldn't want me to meddle. After the last time, I think I've learned my lesson."  
  
"Give me a break, Jack. We're not blowing up buildings here."  
  
"But we could blow up someone's life, which is far worse."  
  
"Or we could help build up someone's life."  
  
"Ah - that's what the meddler always thinks. Take my word for it. I'm not going to--"  
  
Will slanted a look of derision toward Bristow. "Jack, give it up. I know you have an idea."  
  
"Okay, we are agreed that the key here is honesty."  
  
"You agree?" Will asked in surprise.  
  
"Reluctantly and with great hesitation, I am forced to admit that honesty may be the only way."  
  
"The depth of your sarcasm is astonishing."  
  
"Topic? The way I see it, Syd and Vaughn need to resolve this. The question is how to achieve it. I could send them off together on a mission and make arrangements for --"  
  
"Jack, before you come up with some Machiavellian scheme, I was thinking that you should act like the concerned father you really are. Just advise Sydney to listen to Vaughn, that if he doesn't bring it up again that she should, and if she is angry to direct it appropriately rather than at herself the way she is doing now."  
  
"Have a heart to heart father -daughter discussion? Well, that's a unique strategy for the Bristow family. But do you think she'd listen to me?" Jack's eyes were guarded.  
  
"I think she'd listen to you more than anyone else. I don't mean to rub salt in a wound here again, but after what you went through with Irina, who better to talk about the importance of honesty in a relationship?" As Jack looked away, Will saw the flash of pain he could not hide quickly enough. Will regretted having to say that about the Bristow marriage. Truth did hurt, after all. Syd had said once that the deceit had been all on her mother's side; that Jack had been a totally different man prior to Irina's betrayal, open, loving and warm. It was the truth that had so scarred Jack that he closed himself off, not the lies, but the truth. He put his hand on Jack's shoulder. The older man was startled and Will realized that he had never thought about who comforted Jack.  
  
To lighten the mood, Will quipped, "And when we're done matchmaking Syd and Vaughn, maybe we should move on to you. When's the last time you---"  
  
Jack groaned, "For God's sake, the last thing I need is you, Will Tippin,." while Will cracked up.  
  
"You know, Jack, you're actually a pretty fun guy when you loosen up."  
  
"I need a drink if I am going to hear you calling me a pretty fun guy. Let's go in. I think it would be better if we both talked to her, rather than just me."  
  
"You need the moral support?"  
  
"Yeah. Being honest takes a lot out of me."  
  
Chapter 3: "The white little ball won't move until you hit it, and there's nothing you can do after it's gone." (Babe Didrikson Zaharias)  
  
Syd walked in her house as dusk was falling and stopped short. Her father and Will were sitting at the counter drinking beer together? What was wrong with this picture?  
  
"Hey, Syd, we've been waiting for you." Will smiled, but not his usual, slightly goofy grin.  
  
"Let her get in the house already, Will, and put down her stuff. How was the library?" Jack put down his beer and Will saw him surreptitiously press something in his pocket.  
  
"Fiiine. What is going on?" she asked the two of them. She threw her pack on the couch and sat down. Her father reached over into the pack and turned off her cell phone. She stared at him curiously.  
  
"We want to talk to you," they said in unison. Her father and Will were talking in unison? This was getting more weird by the second. Francie had mentioned seeing them eating together in her restaurant and they had both been puzzled by the idea of those two together. Francie said they had spent the dinner talking about books; she had shamelessly eavesdropped.  
  
"About what?" she said with the utmost caution. Will handed her a beer.  
  
Her father answered this time, "About why you are depressed and preoccupied lately and what we can do to help you."  
  
"Dad, don't tell me you're going to meddle again. I thought you promised."  
  
"C'mon, Syd. Don't whine. He's not blowing up a building here," Will scolded.  
  
She protested, "But still, it's the principle of the thing".  
  
"The principle of the thing is that he's your dad. Your dad who loves you. Some dads take you miniature golfing, some dads take you shopping for your prom dress or your first car. Jack here blows up buildings, and well, god only knows. But suffice to say, he generally meddles. That's what he does to show you his love and to try and building a relationship with you. And- ."  
  
Now her father was squirming and shooting daggers at Will. That was more normal. "Thank you Mr. Tippin for your armchair analysis. Can we-"  
  
"No, I'm not done. I guess I'm like Jack too - I see something wrong, really wrong, with someone I love and I want to help fix it so that they'll be happy. Now, unlike Jack's usual m.o., I tend to start with the notion that the truth is the best way to do that".  
  
"Tippin, you're blathering."  
  
"No, I'm not, I'm setting up the story - or in this case, prepping Syd for why we are going to tell her something she doesn't want to hear in the hopes that she won't just close us off or run away, like she usually does."  
  
"I do NOT do that," Syd protested.  
  
"Yes, you do", the men chorused.  
  
"Arggh. Okay, this is getting weird. Just how much time have you two spent together working on this meeting?"  
  
Jack was becoming visibly impatient. "Let's cut to the chase. We all know you're depressed and preoccupied. Don't bother denying it, Syd. Arvin mentioned it to me last week. He asked what was wrong with you, if you needed a vacation or if you were questioning your lifestyle and your allegiances. This. Is. Not. A. Good. Thing. Kendall brought it up the other day as well, wondering if your judgment could be trusted since you were obviously having problems with some issue. And let's face it, if those two self-absorbed egomaniacs are noticing it, it's time to deal with it. It's going to affect your work and therefore, your safety and those of the people with whom you work."  
  
"Francie noticed it too. She asked me the other day if you had mentioned anything to me. I know she's asked you a few times, 'What's the matter?'"  
  
"I'm surprised, then, that she's not here, so you can have one more person on my case about this," Syd muttered sullenly.  
  
"We thought about it, to tell you the truth," Will said. "But," her father continued, "since the underlying reason for your problem is classified, we couldn't really do that."  
  
Syd gave a small sigh of relief, "You mean, Mom, of course."  
  
"No, we don't. You weren't talking about Irina with Francie, were you?" her father said sarcastically. "Obviously, trying to ascertain the motives of Irina Derevko occupy the thoughts of a lot of people, including me and you. There's a whole section in Analysis working on the issue of her motives. But no one, I hope you are included, believes it was solely because she was suffering remorse about her actions and her lack of maternal devotion. There's no option paper exploring that idea circulating through the office. But the point here is that you were dealing relatively adequately with that woman and while I have -"  
  
"Oodles of concern," Will interrupted.  
  
"Tippin, I have never used the word 'oodles' in my life. I was going to say that while I am concerned that you or I or almost anyone who comes in contact with her can be manipulated, as long as we are extremely careful I think we'll come through this. And maybe, heal a little along the way."  
  
"Whoa, Jack, I'm surprised at your armchair analysis. Spending more time with Barnett?" Will smirked, then moved his stool slightly away from Jack, just in case. "But Syd, the point is that you are in a really difficult situation right now. It's not enough that you are a double agent, Irina is the mother from hell and you have that asshole Sark working with you. No, something has pushed you over the edge."  
  
Syd said nothing, just took a long swig from her beer. When they said nothing, she raised her eyebrow.  
  
"It's Vaughn," the men said. Syd choked. "Whaat? What do you know? Did Francie tell you?"  
  
Will shook his head. "Syd, honestly, anyone with eyes in that bar knows. I knew something was up the very first time I met Vaughn and you weren't even there, it was just the way he talked about you. I don't know what it's like over at spy central, what they talk about over the water cooler, but if you two are no better are hiding your feelings there than you were in that bar in front of his 'girlfriend'."  
  
"No, they are no better over there either at 'spy central' Spy central." Jack gave a sideways glance of derision at Will, although his mouth curved upward. "And everyone was willing to ignore it, since it seemed like you two were, more or less, operating within the boundaries of protocol and Vaughn had a girlfriend. That removed a lot of the suspicion since no one would ever imagine that Michael Vaughn would---"  
  
"Did everyone there know about Alice?" Syd choked out, looking away. Jack and Will glanced at each other. They wanted Syd to get angry, not more sad.  
  
"Yes, everyone knew but you," Jack said flatly. "I am sorry to have to tell you that - it must make you feel like a fool."  
  
"Or maybe you were already feeling like a fool, is that it, Syd?" Will asked. "Is that one reason why you're depressed? That you had bad judgment in men? I mean, after all, you did reject me!" Will said in an effort to lighten the moment, which merely earned him a glare from Jack.  
  
"Are you thinking you inherited my bad judgment about partners, Syd? After all, first Noah and now Vaughn? Is that it?" Jack pressed.  
  
Syd's head jerked up at that. "Will knows about Noah?"  
  
"Just the barest essentials."  
  
"I can't believe you two! But wait a minute, while we're on the subject of my bad judgment, let's not forget Danny, you never thought he was right for me." Good, Jack thought, she was starting to get really ticked.  
  
"And he wasn't. There's only one man I've ever thought was right for you. I admit I didn't think so in the beginning, but I've come to change my mind. And lord knows, it's not Tippin, here."  
  
"Thanks, Jack. Your compliments slay me. Syd - as your father said, let's cut to the chase. We could go on and detail every interaction between the two of you, but what it comes down to is this. You two have strong feelings for each other. Don't shake your head at me, Syd," Will interjected. "Now Vaughn, he risks his career, breaks protocols of all kinds -- which your dad says is super important to him - to come to Taipei and help you find me. That and other things, things probably only you and he and maybe Jack know, would indicate his feelings for you are more than that of a handler. Then the virus thing happened, you probably are totally panicked, you risk everything to save him - your life, your principles, everything only to find out that he's got some cookie at home. Anyone would be really upset."  
  
Sydney was looking down at her hands as they peeled the label off of the bottle of beer.  
  
They both wished she would throw the bottle across the room or something. Will shrugged at Jack, indicating it was his turn.  
  
"Sydney, look at me." She grudgingly raised her eyes. "Honey, I know this situation is painful, beyond painful. I can see it in your eyes, in the slump of your shoulders. But I also know that Vaughn has tried to talk to you about it. And you won't let him. Why not?"  
  
"How do you know that?" she asked accusingly. Jack just smiled, knowing it would irritate her.  
  
"Do you have me bugged or is it the warehouse or.?"  
  
"That's not the point here. The point is, why not listen to him?"  
  
"Why should I?"  
  
"Why shouldn't you?"  
  
"What could he possibly say--- He's said enough already, thank you."  
  
"What did he say?" Jack pressed. Will thought idly that Jack would have made a good reporter himself. Same interrogation technique, after all. Well, maybe not, given what he knew of Jack's tendency toward the physical.  
  
"He said that SHE was a good person." Syd practically spat out the last two words. Ah, good, now they were getting somewhere.  
  
"If she's a 'good person', that makes YOU - what, exactly?" Will asked.  
  
"Exactly. What am I, the devil or something? I risk everything to save his life, which okay was partly my fault since it was my mother's big red ball of ebola-" She deflated as she spoke.  
  
"Syd, in no way was that your fault, just as what happened to me was not your fault," Will interrupted. "We all make choices. I made a choice to continue with the story even after you and your father, initially, tried to dissuade me for my own good. But my own drive to know the truth allow me to let it go. Same thing for Vaughn, he made a choice based upon -- in his case -- it was his feelings for you. That choice of his led him to go to Taipei and unfortunately get infected. You could have been on a regular mission, whatever that might be, and he could have gotten hurt just as easily."  
  
"So stop feeling guilty. If anyone should and does feel guilty it's Vaughn. The guy is practically swimming in his own guilt." Jack insisted.  
  
"No kidding," Will added. "Why do you think he's done so much for me? Initially, I could tell he thought I was competition for you."  
  
"He did?" asked Syd with a small smile.  
  
"Oh, yeah. That first meeting with him was all about putting me in my place. But even with that, he has done everything he could for me. Why? Because of you, because I am your friend. And also because even before you knew about Alice, he felt guilty. And he should. He's in love with you, but seeing another woman? I mean, whose name is he calling out when-"  
  
"Okay, we don't need to go there, Tippin." Jack growled, honestly like he wanted to hear about Vaughn's fantasies of his daughter. Lately he had enough trouble dealing with his own unexpected..He shook his head to clear it. "Did you know Irina asked him about his feelings for you? Even she could tell, in the sum total of the 10 minutes she's spent with him, for god's sake."  
  
"What did he tell her?"  
  
"He talked about wanting a normal life."  
  
"NORMAL life? Normal life?" Syd was practically yelling by now. Good.  
  
"And that knowing you has made his life more difficult. He mumbled on about rules and protocols. You know how he is."  
  
"And you know something. If that is the way it is - he wants to go by the rule book, then fine. But then, stop-" Syd broke off.  
  
"Stop with the looks and.. Has there been anything else I should know about and maybe need to take care of?" Jack asked tonelessly. Hearing that tone and the menace in it, Will was glad, really, that he and Syd had never gone out and he had hurt her. He might not be alive today.  
  
Syd, of course, was smiling. In some ways, she was just as bloodthirsty as her parents. Hadn't she referred to the shootout between the three of them and the PRF in Kashmir as "comforting"? What a crew.  
  
"Thanks, Daddy. Maybe you could just punch him in the nose, once?"  
  
"Actually, in this case, and I hate to admit it, but your mother is after all the best manipulator in the business - your mother did the right thing. When he was droning on about wanting a normal life - what a joke - and the rules, she asked him, 'What about the rules between a man and a woman?' And that's the question I would be asking him."  
  
"Yeah, why did he act like he was available, when he wasn't, strictly speaking?" Will asked. "I mean, I can see that you all probably don't have a lot of time to make social conversation - although I was startled by how much he knew about you and your life and even Francie and I don't know where he'd fit into the conversation, 'Hey, I'm going out with my old girlfriend again,' but---"  
  
"Tippin, shut up. The point the man with verbal diarrhea is trying to make, the question we all have - everyone at the Agency has - is why he continues to act like he's available when he is not? Even Weiss asked me-"  
  
"Weiss! Weiss? Doesn't he think I am the worst thing for Vaughn since, I don't know!" Syd said in surprise.  
  
"Yeah, that's how bad this is."  
  
"Who's Weiss?" Will interrupted.  
  
Jack answered, "Weiss is Vaughn's partner and he turned Vaughn in once for stepping over the line with his feelings for Syd. I went to see Weiss in the hospital after Irina shot him-"  
  
"Irina shot him too?"  
  
"Irina shoots lots of people, Tippin. Moving along, Weiss asked me what I thought of the fact that Vaughn asked you out to dinner over the open com unit in Barcelona. He thought Vaughn was crazy, absolutely crazy. Of course, what Weiss also knew and I did not then, was that Vaughn was going out with Alice at the time. So what the hell was he doing asking you out?" Jack practically growled the last sentence. Both Will and Jack stared, hard, at Sydney, willing her to get angry over that question.  
  
Finally, they saw her face grow taut. "I hadn't thought of that! And you know, like I was saying before," (Will saw Jack press something in his pocket again), "If he wants to go by the rule book, fine, but then he needs to stop with the way he looks and the personal questions and talking about restaurants in Rome and." Good now, she was working herself up.  
  
Right on cue, the phone rang. Will picked up the phone on the counter. "Hello?" "Joey's Pizza?"  
  
Chapter 4: "Grab the broom of anger and drive off the beast of fear." (Zora Neale Hurston)  
  
As Syd slammed her car into reverse and sped out of the driveway, she saw her father and Will watching out the front window. She shook her head. Who would have ever thought the two of them would work together in any capacity? Could two people be more different than those two? Maybe they weren't so different, after all, they did make a good tag team, though. She felt grateful, really, that she had them caring about her. Even if they were telling her to do something she absolutely did not want to do. Even if it was, they said, for her own good.  
  
Her own good. What a joke. If she knew what was good for her, she would just enter protective custody and start life all over again. Maybe, then, she could be a "good person." In agitation, she began tapping her fingers hard on the steering wheel.  
  
Good person, my ass, she thought as she pulled into the warehouse parking lot. Good person? What the hell does that mean?, she thought as she stalked down the stairs into the subbasement and moved toward the pull of light. The guard looked up and smiled at her as he waved a wand over her clothing to detect any bugs or trace elements. "All set, Agent." His smile wavered as he caught look of her face, "Are you alright? You look-"  
  
"I have a lot on my mind. Excuse me." She walked off without another word. The guard stared at her in shock - he had never seen that particular look on her face except when she was dealing with Kendall and to his knowledge Kendall was safely away on vacation. Oh, well, that was Agent Vaughn's problem, not his.  
  
Vaughn looked up and smiled as Syd slammed open the gate. "Geez, Syd, are you trying to break that door or what?"  
  
"Why did you need to see me?" Syd asked through clenched teeth.  
  
"What are you talking about? Your father sent me a voice mail, well, two actually, telling me to set up a meet with YOU." His forehead wrinkled in perplexity.  
  
Okay, she was not going to notice that, really. "My father sent you a voice mail? When?" "The first one was about 45 minutes ago, telling me to be waiting for a second one. Then the second one came about 15 minutes ago." "My father - and Will - are amazing. What a team, " she said sardonically. "They don't leave anything to chance, do they?" Syd asked of the ceiling.  
  
"Will? What does Will have to do with the voice mail?" She noted that his voice seemed a little nervous now. Hmm, what was that about?  
  
"Oh, my father and Will sat me down tonight for a talk." She could feel her anger growing.  
  
"About what?" As usual, his eyes were looking anywhere but at her.  
  
She waited for a moment, waiting for his eyes to meet hers, but realized that his instincts were telling him to avoid that. Without conscious volition, her hand reached out and grasped his jaw, lifting his face to meet hers.  
  
"Look at me when I tell you this. If I had to live through 'The Will and Jack Show', the least you can do is look me in the eyes while I tell you about it."  
  
"'The Will and Jack Show?'" I find it hard to believe that it shouldn't be 'The Jack and Will Show'" instead. After all, your father-"  
  
"Yeah, he is a master strategist, a master meddler, a compulsive meddler, that's why you got those voice mail messages designed to get us here at just the precise time that would work best, in his opinion. But this scene just smacks of Will and his penchant, his own compulsion, for trying to ferret out the truth and proceeding accordingly. How he got my father to go along with him, I'll never know. Actually, I do know. They are both meddlers, but they have two totally different world views. Will operates under the mistaken assumption that truth is always a good thing." She stopped.  
  
"Syd, I know that ---"  
  
"Shut up. You DON'T know. And neither does Will." She swallowed hard and now she was the one to look away.  
  
With a hand infinitely gentler than her own had been, Vaughn reached out and turned her back to face him. "What don't Will and I know, that Jack and you do, Syd?"  
  
"That the truth hurts, that sometimes, sometimes, you'd rather live a lie than live with the pain of the truth. Think of my father - which life would he rather have had? - his life with Laura and me even if it was a lie or the life he had after he learned the truth that Irina betrayed us both? I was happier, after all, when I thought SD6 was the CIA and I was working for the good guys. When I was a 'good person' myself." She did not notice that Vaughn's face froze. "Now, almost everything I do is a lie, I don't know whom to trust---"  
  
"You can always trust me, Syd," Vaughn said emphatically.  
  
"Can I?" She noticed that he flinched and stepped back. "Can I trust you with what is really important? I don't know, I honestly don't know the answer to that question. I am questioning my instincts and my judgment and-- -" Vaughn opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off, realizing that she did that a lot, but unable to stop, finally, from asking the question that occupied every waking moment she could not fill with work or her nearly non- existent dissertation or her dad or Will or Francie's restaurant or anything, anything, to avoid it.  
  
She leaned into the chain link fence and held on with one hand and took a deep breath. "And I cannot go on like this. My father and Will were right. I need to resolve this before I endanger anyone else. I need to know what the rules are between us. I need the truth." She swallowed hard. "What truth is it that you want to know?" Vaughn asked in the silence.  
  
"Let me ask you a question. Just what are you doing with Alice?"  
  
Vaughn straightened his tie and looked down for a moment. "I've been trying to talk to you about this and." She waited.  
  
"But I haven't been ready to listen. I know. I'm ready now."  
  
"I, I guess I should start where we left off, that day I came back to work after my sick leave. I met Alice again at this friend's party and I remembered that we'd had a good time together. And that while the life I had with her wasn't as exciting or dangerous or world-shaking as, well, anyway, it was a good, normal life." He paused.  
  
"And having a normal life is important to you?" Syd asked.  
  
"Yes, having watched what losing my father did to my family, I want, wanted, a normal life."  
  
"But you're an agent yourself. How is that quote unquote normal? Or is it that with Alice your life would be, well, easier, than with..me? That you don't have to worry about Alice getting killed every time she goes to work?" "Have you been talking with Irina?" Vaughn accused.  
  
"No, but my dad mentioned that she had asked you about us and that you talked with her about rules." "Jack knows?"  
  
"Oh, let's face it, my dad knows everything. As he would say, let's focus. I asked you about this normal life and it being easier?" She was gripping the chain links so hard with her right hand she was sure that she would bear the imprint on her palm forever. But, if she let go, she was sure she would fall down. The fence was holding her up.  
  
"Yes, and it was easier. But then it all blew up in my face when you met Alice in the hallway. And when your dad told me that, that you met her when you were on your way to recover the antidote, that you knew about her when you went ahead and made arrangements to kill Sloane to get me the antidote.."  
  
"When you realized that I am not a good person," Syd added.  
  
"You ARE a good person, Syd, the best. You saved my life, for god's sake." Vaughn protested.  
  
"But at a tremendous cost." Syd looked away through the links. Vaughn protested, "Sloane lived."  
  
"But I - something in me changed when I did that. My dad said that he hoped I would never have to face that moment - the moment when you make a cold-blooded decision to kill someone. I did face that moment and I made that decision. I stuck that needle in him. I made the decision that your life was worth more than his. I acted like I was God. I'll never be the same person - I can't go back to what I was before that moment."  
  
"But, Syd, the truth is that in our line of work that is exactly the kind of decision we have to make sometimes. And I'm not going to agree with Jack that in the effort to stamp out evil, anything goes and I admit to having a bias toward my own skin, but ."  
  
"You sound like me trying to rationalize what I did."  
  
"Although, like your dad, I wish you had never had to make such a decision, there IS rationale to it. You know, in college in a philosophy class we had this debate, which I thought was ridiculous. It was about if you could go back in time and kill Hitler, would you do it? I said, 'Duh? Of course!' and most of the other students were waffling about the ethics of it. I kept thinking that sometimes in the pursuit of the greater good, one must do something bad."  
  
"'Do something bad?'" She half smiled. "You know what I mean. But, if you could go back and kill Hitler, would you?" "Of course."  
  
"Now, I'm not saying that Sloane is on the same level as Hitler, but he's certainly equivalent to one of his lesser minions. So---"  
  
"Yeah, I get situational ethics. But, this is not what I wanted to talk to you about."  
  
"But it is important. I can tell that I hurt you when I called Alice a 'good person.' I never meant to imply that YOU were not. If anything, none of us in this business are not."  
  
"But the fact remains that you were attracted to her because she's not in this business, right?"  
  
"Yes. At the time, I did not really think there was a chance for us. I felt that what you did, what you do, is much more important than 'us.'" He noticed suddenly that with the lack of light and colors in the warehouse, they looked as if they were in a black and white movie. Any other time, he might have made a comparison to Casablanca, but. he was hoping for a happier ending.  
  
"And too, I wasn't sure if you had the same feelings for me that I had for you. I didn't really know, in fact, until Weiss told me how you nearly tore apart everyone when you couldn't find me after Taipei. But, then when you came to me in the hospital and I saw the look on your face, I knew, I knew we were in too deep to deny. I wanted to wait until it was all over - the virus - and come clean with you and start over, but I was so tired I couldn't even get that out. I should have never waited, I should have." He fell silent.  
  
"And you flatlined in front of me, while you were holding my hand. I ran after you in the hallway, where I met your girlfriend. And I realized, in that moment, that I didn't know you or that at best, I had misjudged, totally, the relationship."  
  
"No, no, you didn't misjudge, you do know me," he protested.  
  
"Let me continue. I've had a while to think about this. For example, I had no clue that your most important personal goal was to have a quote unquote normal life at all costs. The Michael Vaughn I know, thought I knew, would have waited or at least, would have let me know somehow, someway that he wasn't waiting. Maybe that's unrealistic. It's probably true that you didn't know how I feel, I don't think I did until Taipei. I don't know. But as Will and Dad pointed out, I still don't understand why you asked me out to dinner in Barcelona over an open com unit when you had a girlfriend waiting at home. Is that situational ethics at work?"  
  
"Because every time I was with you, I forgot, forget about everything and everybody else. And then, when I'm not with you. " he trailed off.  
  
Syd picked up her train of thought when it became apparent he wasn't continuing. "But then, I realized too, that our relationship has been one- sided. I tell you everything, and you tell me nearly nothing. Maybe that's my fault. Maybe I don't ask enough questions. Maybe I'm afraid of the answers or maybe I'm just too self-absorbed. How much do I really know about you? And if I don't know you, then how can I love you, how can I trust you?"  
  
"This is ridiculous. You do know me, you always have right from the first moment."  
  
"Have I?" she challenged him, holding onto those links with her right hand as if her life depended upon it. Better a scar in her palm than to show weakness by falling down, which is what would surely happen if she let go. Vaughn reached out and took her hand in his left and then steadied her at the waist with his right arm when she stumbled.  
  
"Syd, I love you. I always have from that first moment and I think that I always will." His eyes met hers and as always she wanted to just fall into them. But she saw now that behind the love was a shadow.  
  
"And I, I thought I loved you. You know this should be the most important moment in our lives. But when you say you love me, I have to ask this question: You don't want to love me, do you?"  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"You keep saying you want the truth. The truth is that you say you love me, but you are with Alice. How do you make that truth fit into your rule book, that rule book you live by, that rule book that says that your fictional normal life is the only way to be? The rule book that says you can tell me you love me and then go home and make love to someone else? Another example of situational ethics? The rule books say I can't have the woman I profess to love, so I screw another one as a substitute? What rule book says that that truth is not killing me? The truth is I don't know you."  
  
"My God, is that what you really think?"  
  
"I don't know what else to think, I don't know how else to make sense of this. You know, I'm standing here holding onto this fence for dear life and suddenly I realize how appropriate that we've been meeting for what seems like forever in a room defined by fences. The kind of fences you can see through, true enough, but would find hard to get out of or through unless you had a key to the gate. And I'm thinking, not to draw the analogy too far, that you've never given me the key."  
  
Vaughn shook his head. "Syd, I think you've spent way too much time in litcrit classes." "Maybe." "No maybes about it. I'll be happy to give you whatever key in whatever shape you want." "Maybe we just need to spend more time learning about each other, or rather me learning about you. Maybe then."  
  
"Maybe then we can recover the trust?"  
  
"I hope so. Trust is a tricky thing."  
  
"So I've been told."  
  
Chapter 5: "The trouble with advice is that you can't tell if it's good or bad until you've taken it." (Frank Tyger)  
  
Jack and Will looked up with concern as Syd slumped into the house. Will elbowed Jack and jerked his head toward Syd. Jack got up and grasped her gently by the shoulders. "Honey, sit down." He walked her over to the sofa. "Do you want to tell us, or do you want to be alone, or do you just want to sit here or?" "Okay, Dad, that's enough options. I'll talk to you guys. You got me into it." That sat in silence for a long while.  
  
"Syd, I don't mean to rush you, but Francie could be home any time," Will said sympathetically. "And maybe before you talk to her about it, you need to get your story straight."  
  
"You're right. Well, to make a long story short, I asked him all those questions and basically what it comes down to is he's confused, I'm confused, I don't think I really know him, I don't know how to trust any more."  
  
"And, there's more, obviously," Jack said softly.  
  
"I said, he agreed, that we needed time to get to know each other better."  
  
Will asked, "Isn't that a good thing?"  
  
"Yes, but I guess." "Deep down inside, you wanted the fairy tale ending?"  
  
Jack said sadly, "Oh honey." Will mimed putting his arm around Sydney and as Jack obeyed the instruction, she turned her face into his shoulder and sobbed. When the storm subsided, Jack wiped her tears with his handkerchief. "Why don't you go take a hot bath and go to bed. It will look better in the morning when you've had a chance to think about it and see that taking time to - court - for want of a better word, is a good idea. Taking the time to know and trust the other person is essential, especially in our business, especially given your roles. I know that seems like cold comfort right now, but."  
  
Syd stared at him in surprise. "No, actually, Dad that is good advice. Thanks to both of you. It's better to know, sometimes, isn't it? Not always, though."  
  
"Oh, you Bristows and your belief in the benefits of self deception," Will said, as always trying to lighten the moment. At least this time, it worked. Both Bristows were smiling.  
  
"Go to bed, honey, and tomorrow we'll all do something together, even Francie if she's available. I don't want you sitting around moping."  
  
"Okay, thanks again," Syd said as she leaned over to kiss her father goodnight. As she walked away, Jack put his hand to his cheek where his daughter had kissed him. Will asked quietly,  
  
"When's the last time she did that?"  
  
"I honestly don't know."  
  
"See, and all it took was weeks of agony on your part, totally butting into her life."  
  
"What will it take to get another kiss from my daughter?"  
  
"I don't know. Does she need a prom dress?"  
  
"Tippin."  
  
Chapter 6: "Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action." (Goldfinger, in Goldfinger by Ian Fleming) Start counting.  
  
Over the course of the next four months, Jack spent a lot of time saying, "Tippin." in that tone of voice as Will seemed to make it his mission in life to incorporate Jack in the three younger people's lives. Sydney seemed to be a little jealous of how well her father and Will got along. Francie had questions, lots of them, as she watched relationships develop. She was keeping her own counsel for the moment.  
  
But it wasn't Francie who was worrying Jack at the moment. Sloane said casually to Jack one day over lunch, "So I hear from Security that you've been spending a lot of time with Syd and her friends."  
  
"Surely Security has more important things to do than tail me going to the movies or the video store?" Jack said cautiously, peering over his menu. Where was Arvin going with this? Would this presage another attempt to harm his relationship with Sydney?  
  
"Well, if her friends did not include a certain Mr. Will Tippin that might be true."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"He is an identified security risk, Jack. You hadn't spent time with him alone or in a group previously and now it seems, all of a sudden, you have a social life that revolves around Tippin. How does that look to the Risk Management staff?"  
  
"I would hardly say my social life, such as it is, revolves around Tippin. I am just spending more time with Sydney. Tippin happens to be part of her life."  
  
"Hmm. I suppose. But I just wanted to warn you to be careful. Security's last report noted an inordinate amount of time spent alone with Tippin. I would hate to have to reopen Tippin's file."  
  
"Don't worry about Tippin. He accidentally stumbled into something, paid his price and learned his lesson. He's moved on." He paused mentally, while casually flipping his menu. Will was preoccupied lately and he didn't know why, but somehow doubted it was about SD6. Tippin still occasionally shuddered when Syd would stupidly talk about her work. Thinking of those shudders, Jack continued, "I find him amusing. I think I am entitled to find amusement, occasionally."  
  
"As long as it doesn't interfere with your judgment, Jack."  
  
"My judgment is as good as ever, Arvin."  
  
"Fine. Let's order," Sloane said and signaled the waiter. Why was Sloane interested in Tippin? In Jack's relationship with Tippin? Shit. This wasn't good.  
  
Chapter 7: "Happiness, like an old friend, is inclined to drop in unexpectedly -- when you're working hard on something else." (Ray Inman)  
  
"Oh, good, Mr. Bristow, just the person we wanted to see." Francie opened the door wide to let Jack into the house, several days after the disastrous lunch with Sloane.  
  
"You wanted to see me, Francie?" Jack asked in surprise as he handed her his coat.  
  
"Yes, Syd and I wanted to talk to you about Will." Jack was glad Francie was so obtuse that she failed to notice his involuntary stiffening at her comment.  
  
"C'mon in, Dad. Do you want a beer or wine or coffee or water or---?" Syd asked with an anxious smile from behind the counter.  
  
"It's a little early in the day for alcohol, Syd. Coffee is just fine." Syd and Francie busied themselves in the kitchen as if his time were not precious and he grew impatient. "Okay, you two. What's up with Will that has you so worried?" He braced himself.  
  
"Well, it's just that, have you noticed---" Francie began but trailed off. Honestly if that girl ever finished a thought he would be surprised.  
  
"Spit it out, already, one of you." It's always better to just get the torture over with quickly, after all.  
  
"Dad, have you noticed that Will seems to be drinking too much?" Syd asked.  
  
Jack frowned, but with some relief that they weren't going to mention, well, who knows. "Actually, I was beginning to wonder about that myself." It was true - every time he saw Will, the guy ended up with alcohol in his hand. And he wasn't just sipping wine or nursing a brew or two, he was quite deliberately ensuring that he was drunk. Not falling down drunk, but close.  
  
"Mr. Bristow, do you know why he'd be doing that? His professional life is improving. I mean, he's selling quite a few freelance pieces to magazines and it seems like he's pulling himself back up again. And I think he's had an interview at some travel magazine and he's been talking about moving out into his own apartment. So, we don't know what's going on. Do you?" Francie gave him a guileless look, that had it been anyone else, would have made him suspicious.  
  
Out of long practice, Jack turned the question back. "Why are you asking me?"  
  
"Aren't you two, like, best buds?" Francie countered.  
  
"Best buds? Dad and Will?" Syd laughed at the notion.  
  
"Yeah, c'mon, they hang out together, Will drags him everywhere."  
  
"Well, I know THAT. They've probably seen more movies and eaten more meals together than we've done with Will in the last few months. But 'best buds'?"  
  
"Hello, you two, I'm in the room. Have you tried talking to Will about this?"  
  
"Of course. But every time we do that, he's not drinking so it's hard to make the point."  
  
"Is there a pattern to his drinking?" Jack asked.  
  
Both women fell silent and looked at each other. "Well?" Jack pressed.  
  
Syd spoke up first, "Dad, I don't know how to say this, but -" Francie continued when Syd faltered, "But, Mr. Bristow, it seems like he drinks when he's with you. I'm not saying that he's trying to keep up with you or anything and you are actually less likely to have a drink in your hand than he is. I mean, like right now. You have coffee, but if Will were to come in here, he'd go right for a beer."  
  
"Are you saying that if I weren't here, he'd just have coffee or water or wouldn't be getting drunk? But if I were here, he'd go for the alcohol?"  
  
"Yes," Syd and Francie said in unison. Syd, however, said it cautiously. Her fears were confirmed when she saw her father's face close down.  
  
"Dad, we aren't saying that you seem to drive Will to drink!" She didn't want him to think that. As odd as it seemed to her, Will was the first person, at least here in LA, who had been able to access what she thought of as her "real" father - the person he had been before Irina's betrayal. Originally, she'd been a little jealous, but now.She didn't know if she'd call the two of them best friends, but still, aside from Arvin (and his status as friend was dubious to say the least), just who was Jack Bristow's friend? Her father could not afford to lose Will. She poked Francie.  
  
"No, Mr. Bristow, we're not saying that." Francie added.  
  
"Francie, you're not saying that with a great deal of conviction. And I saw Syd elbow you."  
  
"No, really, I don't think you drive Will to drink. I just think there is something in the relationship you two have, from his point of view, that .. Oh, I don't know. And given his history with heroin, well, clearly he has a problem with addiction or trying to escape reality or something."  
  
"Dad, what do YOU think? Why would he drink like this?" Syd asked in the face of Jack's continuing silence and increasingly closed expression.  
  
"My guess, based upon my unfortunate personal history, is that he's trying to avoid something. What that something is that might have to do with me, I cannot say." Jack said tightlipped. Francie raised an eyebrow. Syd groaned inwardly. Had she and Francie just torpedoed all of the progress Will had made in loosening up her father?  
  
"Well, would YOU ask him? Since we haven't gotten anywhere?" Francie asked.  
  
"You want me to ask him, when you have identified me as the problem?"  
  
"We don't think you are the problem, Dad. We think Will has some kind of problem that, around you, causes him to drink or want to drink to escape it."  
  
"Well, that's just great." Jack stared down at his coffee cup. Syd took the opportunity to shoo Francie out of the room. She leaned over her father's shoulder and whispered into his ear. "C'mon, Dad, you have to talk to him. Maybe he's having flashbacks from Taipei or something. Every time I try to talk to him, Francie comes in and I can't get anywhere. Maybe he needs to talk to Barnett or something. We owe him."  
  
"Fine. I'll try. I make no promises."  
  
"Good," Francie said as she returned, making both Bristows jump. "That's all we ask. I think you're the only one who can get through to him."  
  
"Give me a little way to come up with a strategy."  
  
"Of course, Dad."  
  
Chapter 8: "There is something about the unexpected that moves us. As if the whole of existence is paid for in some way, except for that one moment, which is free. (Rose Tremain)  
  
The girls were right, Jack decided, over the course of the next two weeks. Every time Jack met Will he would find an excuse to have a drink, actually several drinks. Finally, he invited Will over, ostensibly to watch one of those old Westerns the younger man loved. Where the good guys wore white and the bad guys wore black and always got their just desserts in the end. He could see the appeal, after all.  
  
Jack had only turned on a few lights. Darkness was always easier to talk into than light.  
  
"Will, I want to talk to you. Sit down." Jack pointed to the couch.  
  
"Jack, do you have any wine or beer or" Will asked with his head in the refrigerator.  
  
"No, sit down."  
  
"Well, I really wanted a drink."  
  
"I know, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Sit down." Will finally sat on the couch. Jack sat down next to him.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"Don't play dumb with me, Will Tippin, although I -"  
  
"I know you excel at it? Is that what you were going to say Jack?"  
  
Jack smiled crookedly. "Clearly, you know me too well. But, I have noticed, Syd and Francie have noticed, that you have been drinking to excess lately." Will looked away. He began running his hands through his hair, a nervous gesture of his he had conquered a while back.  
  
"No, I haven't. That's ridiculous." Pause. "Oh my god, is this an intervention? And they sent you?" Will laughed without humor, still staring off into space.  
  
"Well, given my own history of drinking, I am the logical candidate. You're worrying the girls. Especially Francie since she believes you really were a heroin addict and she thinks you've now just changed addictions."  
  
"Francie? Francie? She think she knows and she-- She's being ridiculous."  
  
"Is she? Is Syd? Am I? We've all noticed a pattern, Will." Will's head jerked back toward Jack and he swallowed. "Would you like a glass of water, Will?" Jack asked softly, getting up from his chair. He pulled a bottled water out of the refrigerator and handed it to Will. If nothing else, holding the bottle would give Will something to do with his hands other than mess with his hair, which was a really annoying habit. Showed a lack of self discipline.  
  
"Back on topic. The pattern, Will. Do you know what it is?" Jack was proud of himself for controlling his voice. At last, years of being a double agent were coming in handy if he could fool Will Tippin into believing that he was blasé about the situation. Yeah, fooling Tippin was such a feat, he did it all the time...  
  
"There is no pattern because there is no problem." Will insisted, taking a long swig from the bottle.  
  
"Really? Then why is it every time, every time, I see you, you have alcohol in your hands?" No answer. "And why is it that is not the case when you are with Syd or Francie?"  
  
"What are you saying, Jack?"  
  
"Your pattern appears to be that you drink around me, Will." Jack said quietly. "Is there some reason for that? Do I make you nervous?"  
  
"Well, of course you make me nervous. You make everyone nervous."  
  
Jack's instinctive response was to close up. He knew that he lacked social skills and tended to appear cold and menacing, when in fact he really.But, he was not the issue here, Will was.  
  
"Really? I'm not buying that. Why is it that you were not always like this? This pattern is relatively new. It would seem that if I were to make you nervous that would have been more true in the past, when you didn't know me very well. Rather than now, when I think, thought, we knew each other quite well. So, why the drinking now? And Will, don't bother to lie, I'll just see through it."  
  
"I, I don't want to talk about this."  
  
"You know, the last time I had a problem with my drinking - after we ascertained that Irina was alive - Syd forced me to see a shrink. Now, I can't say I enjoyed or even got a lot from it. But Syd was right in that drinking doesn't make your problems go away and talking with someone can force you to deal with whatever it is you are trying to drown. Kind of like we forced Syd to talk with Vaughn? Remember that? Let me tell you, if you have to drink to drown something - it's going to be like Vaughn in Taipei and just pop right back up when and where you least expect it." Ah, finally - at the word Taipei, Will had stiffened.  
  
"Will, Syd suggested that maybe you are having flashbacks from Taipei, that being around me initiates the flashbacks for some reason. Is that the case?"  
  
Will squeezed the plastic bottle of water so hard it cracked. He jumped up and tossed the bottle into the sink and then just stood there in the kitchen, his hands on the sink, bent over. Jack walked over and gently pulled his arms away from the sink. "Let's sit down. Talk to me about it. You need to talk to someone about it."  
  
"Jack, I really don't think I can do this."  
  
"Okay, do you want me to make an appointment for you with a CIA shrink?"  
  
"God, no! I know how you operate and I don't want you to know---"  
  
"What is it you don't want me to know? Do you want to talk to Sydney? I can call her."  
  
"No, that would almost be worse. And you'd just get it out of her eventually."  
  
"Will, sit down." He gave Tippin a shove back toward the living room and the couch. "You must know that I've seen everything, heard everything by now. Nothing you say could shock me. That's why Syd wanted me to talk to you."  
  
"And Francie, why did she ask you to talk to me?"  
  
"She said and I quote, that you and I are 'like, best buds'," Jack said in a reasonable facscmile of Francie, making Will smile halfheartedly. "'Best buds?' I wish I had seen your face when she said that."  
  
"Yeah, it's somewhat odd to think of Jack Bristow as best buds with someone, isn't it?" Jack asked self-deprecatingly.  
  
"No, in fact, you have become, you are my best friend, Jack, that's why I can't tell you what-" he stopped.  
  
"Tippin, if you don't finish one of these sentences, I will have to employ one of the many techniques I have perfected to make people talk." Will instantly blanched and swallowed hard. "I was just joking. Surely you know that. You're stupid jokes are rubbing off on me," Jack sighed. "You're not leaving here until you talk. Clearly this is about Taipei."  
  
"Yes," Will mumbled and glanced away.  
  
"You're not going to make this easy, are you? So what specific incident or what stimuli is causing the flashbacks? It has to do with me, somehow. Which I don't understand, since I didn't see you in Taipei until the transfer."  
  
"When I bled all over you and ruined your clothes." Will said, almost smiling.  
  
"So, enlighten me, Will. What about that transfer causes the flashbacks?"  
  
"God, Jack, I was so weak. I---" he stopped again.  
  
"I really wish you would cease this inability to complete your thought. You're almost as bad as Francie," Jack said impatiently. "Are you saying you were weak at the transfer? Of course you were, you had been tortured by that sadistic dentist. And yes, Syd had the same torture and just got up and kept going, but that's what her training and years of experience allow her to do. You're a civilian, she's not. She's a trained professional. I didn't expect you to bound out of the car and run a marathon. No one would expect that of you." Okay, he had given Tippin plenty of rope there - would he take it and just start talking, already? God, give him a straight interrogation anyday, even one with Sloane watching. At least then he wasn't emotionally.Anyway, Will did not look relieved, which meant, what, exactly?  
  
"Oookay. So it's not the dentist. What's left? You're killing me here, help out. Is it-is it the hug you gave me when the transfer was complete? The hug that took years off my life? Did that betray your weakness, whatever that is?" Jack smiled to show he was joking, but Will was still avoiding his eyes and had resumed the hand through hair habit again. Argh.  
  
No answer. Okay, time to try another tactic. He hoped Syd appreciated this. He grabbed Will's right shoulder and pressed him back into the couch. Leaning over, he said, using what he felt was his best menacing voice, "That's it, Tippin, I'm done guessing. Tell me what happened - something happened that you didn't tell me or Syd or the doctors, didn't it?" Nothing. He grabbed both of his shoulders and gave him a shake. "Spill it."  
  
"Alright! It was what Sark did, okay?" Will bit his lip and still refused to meet Jack's gaze.  
  
"Okay, Will. What did Sark do? He's capable of anything, I know. Really, you cannot shock me. " "I think I can." "Try me." Jack leaned back to give Will space.  
  
"He did..something to me, that I thought I had let go, gotten over, but now I think maybe I haven't. Or maybe it's something else entirely, but regardless it's gonna affect our.."  
  
"What did he do, Will?" Watching the flood of red wash over Will's face, Jack knew. Oh no, no. He tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. "Did he molest you, did he rape you?" he asked quietly. Things like that happened occasionally to men captured by the more hardened of torturers - it was often a more effective form of torture than raping a woman. He would never tell Syd this; it would kill her.  
  
"Worse." "Worse than rape? What was it? Just get it out. Get it over with."  
  
"What's worse than rape? He, he seduced me." Will groaned and covered his face with his hands. "He seduced you?" Jack asked very softly, trying to keep the menace out of his voice.  
  
"Yes, it was dark on the plane and I was strapped in." He was talking very fast, just to get it over with, of course. Jack said nothing and let him go on. "He would enter and leave, enter and leave, asking me questions to which I had no answers. God, I was so frightened. I kept thinking of you - what would you do in that situation and I knew you would have been, well, not like me ready to piss in my pants from fear. I had no idea how much time was passing, but I kept hearing them talking about what they were going to do with me once we landed. And I knew, intellectually, that they were doing it deliberately to heighten my anxiety, but it worked! I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest with fear. I felt like such a wimp, I kept trying to think, 'What would Jack do in this situation?' I don't know why I wasn't thinking about Sydney, I guess 'cause I had spent more time with you on this mission thing. Then all of a sudden, he came in and oh, god, I was so weak," he broke off.  
  
"Will, you don't have to continue if you don't want. I get the picture." "No, I think I - If you can stand to hear this?" "If you can live through it, I can stand to hear it." Jack said quietly.  
  
"He came in, so quietly, I thought at first I was hearing things. Then all of a sudden he started whispering things, sexual things, and then he started to undress me and then he started to fondle me and I, I."  
  
"Your body responded." Jack said flatly.  
  
Will spoke through his hands still covering his face. "Yes, and then he pulled down my pants and used his mouth on me. And I, oh god, I am so ashamed, Jack." Jack cautiously placed his hand on Will's shoulder. "It's okay, Will. There's no reason to feel ashamed."  
  
"Yes! Yes, there is. I wanted.release so much and---"  
  
"You wanted oblivion for a second. Freedom from pain and fear."  
  
"Yes. That's it, that's it exactly. And I was so desperate for it, then when he told me I couldn't have it until I did it to him, I .." "You did it." Jack gently squeezed his shoulder. At least Will wasn't pushing that small comfort away, he remembered how much it had meant to him that time Will had comforted him. "I did it. It was so stupid, from the standpoint of a health risk; thank God he stopped himself before.And that's what I meant, when I said I was so weak. If I had been stronger, tougher.."  
  
"Will, you were a civilian who didn't know what to expect or how to prepare for it. Even a professional would have trouble in that situation. And Sark - he pulled back so that he could have one more way to demonstrate that he was in control and you were not." When Will still made no answer and remained hunched over in his own private hell, Jack continued, "Didn't you know that when a man's body goes into flight or fight mode, survival mode, the testosterone levels go through the roof? Well, why would you have known? But, it's a fact that men have a tendency to have, um, strong libidos when they feel like they might die. It's okay that you responded. Your body was doing what came naturally - it responded to the stimuli. It doesn't mean you're gay or bisexual or anything else if that's what you're worried about."  
  
"That's not it. I'm not hung up on my masculinity being tied to heterosexuality. It was just shocking, it is, now.."  
  
Jack had looked up sharply. "What do you mean by that?" "What?"  
  
"That your masculinity is not tied to being heterosexual."  
  
"I mean that what bothers me is not that I.did that with a man, but that the individual was Sark." Jack's face was thoughtful and Will wondered just what he was thinking.  
  
Finally, Jack said, "I take you point. Sark is an." "Animal?" "Good enough description. But, Will, Sark knew that you would have never done that with him if you could see him. That's why the lights were out, don't you see? He knew what he was doing - he knew that in the dark your mind could go someplace safe, could imagine he was."  
  
Will still said nothing, but another wave of red washed over his face and neck. Jack thought, what else could he say, what other secret was left? "You know I, of all people, can keep a secret, don't you? Is there anything else?" When Will did not answer, Jack tried again. "Okay, Will, just what does this incident have to do with you feeling the need to drink in my presence and why did this need begin fairly recently? Do you know? I don't."  
  
He waited. Finally, Will began, "Did Francie tell you what she said to me a few weeks ago when she tried to talk to me about this other thing?"  
  
"'Thing?' Tippin, you craft words for a living, I expect better from you." No response. "No, she said nothing about a 'thing' and I can't imagine that Francie, surely the most oblivious person I have ever met, would have anything useful to say, but go on."  
  
"Francie oblivious? Ha. Don't you like her?" "She's fine, Will, really now that I've gotten to know her. Stop avoiding the issue. If Francie said something useful to this situation, then more power to her. Spill it or I'll call HER."  
  
Will clenched his jaw. "Jack, do me a favor and look away for a second? I can't say this and look into your eyes." "Fine."  
  
"Francie asked me, she asked me, if I had a crush on you." In shocked surprise, Jack's eyes snapped back at Will, who fortunately was looking away as he continued, speaking rapidly, "If maybe I wanted more from you than friendship and - Oh, God." "Oh God," Jack said at the same time. Will was not as easy to fool as he had thought, he must have picked up on the unconscious messages, he thought he had successfully hidden. Neither man would look at each other and both took a deep breath.  
  
Jack was the first to speak. "And did you start drinking when Francie said this, or had the drinking started before?"  
  
"Before. I was starting to have these thoughts about you, feelings as I got to know you better. But then I was confused and wondering myself if I was just having a flashback to Taipei."  
  
"I'm confused, Will. What does Taipei have to do with these.thoughts you were having?"  
  
"When Sark and I.when you said that my mind went somewhere else in the darkness, when I said before that I would have expected to have been thinking about Syd and I was thinking about you? I was thinking about you," he ended on a barely discernable whisper. "And I think I may have said your name out loud, which is even worse. And at the time, I thought it was just some anomaly, out of my fear and confusion and thinking of you as the person who was going to save me." "I see."  
  
"And, and.This is so embarrassing. God. I put it out of my mind, like I'd been trying to do with everything about Taipei, because I'd never, consciously, thought of you in that way before. Then, that night.." Will started to talk quickly again, "That night when we were first talking about Syd? You won't remember, but I put my hand on your shoulder after I said something obnoxious about your marriage."  
  
"Oh, I remember," Jack interjected, looking surprised that he had done so.  
  
"And when you looked so startled, it gave me this fleeting thought about who comforts Jack Bristow, who touches Jack Bristow. Ever since, it was like a light bulb went off and it's been getting brighter and brighter the more time we spent together.So, I've been trying to figure out if those feelings were always there on some level given the fact that my brain went right there, to you, while that was happening with Sark. Or, if the feelings were completely unrelated or.Anyway, I'd try to talk myself into confessing these feelings to you by drinking to loosen myself up. But then I'd realize what a bad idea it was, I mean men don't talk about this stuff, do they? So I'd drink some more to forget about what I was thinking. Francie just brought out into the open something I'd rather have hidden and then I got worried that you knew and you would be disgusted or amused. I don't know which would be worse." Will finally stopped and took a few deep breaths.  
  
Silence. Will finally looked up at Jack, who was staring across the room, with his jaw clenched. Will felt his heart sink to his stomach.  
  
"I appreciate that you all were concerned about my drinking and I guess one part of me is glad it's over, it's out in the open. I've been trying, clearly not very well, to handle this on my own. Hoping that maybe the feelings would go away, but it's been so long now and.but, I don't want to lose your friendship and I hope we can forget about it. I know it can't be what you wanted to hear. And I can't believe that once again, I've fallen for someone who isn't going to reciprocate my feelings. Maybe there's self help group for people like me." He tried to end on a lighter note, but Jack still said nothing, just stared off and kept clenching and unclenching his hands.  
  
"I think maybe I should leave, Jack. I can see that you're not too happy right now." He stood up, but Jack caught his arm and pulled him back down to the couch.  
  
"No, Will, I have to ask you a question." Jack's eyes were guarded and his face was tense.  
  
"Sure, I have no secrets left now, that's for certain. Not like you." Will laughed, feebly, but a valiant attempt nonetheless to hide his own uncertainty. Where was this conversation going?  
  
"Yes, I do have a lot of secrets don't I? But, what I wanted to ask you, was. if it bothered you that you had 'fallen' for a man, instead of a woman?" Jack's eyes darted away. He must be really uncomfortable to allow that glimmer of anxiety through; after all the man was famous for his poker face. For once, Will felt like the confident one.  
  
"It's odd, but it never really occurred to me for more than half a second. I guess it happened so gradually that I didn't have a chance to erect mental or emotional barriers to the idea. Or if my heart just accepted that you fall for a person, an individual."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"God, Jack, I've just told you the deepest, most humiliating set of secrets I can imagine and all you can say, is 'oh.'? And I can just imagine what you think of me - you who think caring for someone is a liability."  
  
"Actually, I was just thinking that you were very.courageous."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
Jack smiled involuntarily. The way Tippin said 'seriously?' was always comical.  
  
"Yes, seriously, Will. It took courage to be honest like that. In my life, I have to be careful, I have to keep secrets, to protect myself, my team, my daughter, the people I.care about. It's easier, safer, NOT to care. But.." Jack stopped, obviously uncomfortable. Well, actually, Jack looked way beyond uncomfortable.  
  
"But.what, Jack? Are you actually going to be honest here for a moment? I am glad I'm sitting down."  
  
"Very amusing." In surprise,Will noted that Jack's eyes were meeting his and were, surprisingly, much less guarded then he had expected. He also noted that, contrary to his worst expectations, Jack showed neither disgust nor repulsion at Will's confessions. His eyes were difficult to read, but they weren't shooting daggers at him either. He began to relax infinitesimally.  
  
"But, your courage requires that I tell you..oh, God. Do I have to do this?" he muttered the last to himself, looking down. Jack showing anxiety and not really attempting to hide it? That was a first. Will felt his hopes begin to rise from the ashes where they had always resided. "Yes, I think you do, Jack. Weren't you just telling me a few minutes ago about how I had to tell someone about what had happened? Wasn't the whole point of that endeavor that. "  
  
"I need some more time to process this, Will. And I have some things I have to do first before we can continue this discussion."  
  
"That's all I'm going to get, after everything I've said? Geez, Jack." Will laughed in relief that Jack had not killed him for this confession.  
  
Jack responded to Will's laughter with a half smile. "What more do you want?"  
  
"I think this will do," Will said as he leaned forward and covered Jack's lips with his mouth. He didn't know where he had gotten the courage, especially without alcohol. He guessed it was just instinct, the same instinct that told him, sometimes, that Jack might have feelings for him too. That, really, was the only thing that had allowed him to say any of what had passed for conversation tonight. Jack gave him more credit for courage than he deserved, at least up until this moment anyway. Or maybe he was just stupidly reckless. So much rested on Jack's response. Had his instincts been wrong, would Jack push him away and punch him? Or would he reciprocate? Or worse yet, just do nothing? Would this be the end of any relationship they had? For now, he could tell that Jack was shocked into passivity. And then he thought, Jack, passive?  
  
Will's heart leapt into his throat as suddenly Jack put his hand around the back of Will's neck and pulled him closer. Angling his head, Jack took over and deepened the kiss. When Will tentatively let his tongue lick Jack's lower lip, the older man took in a sharp breath and Will took advantage of his uncharacteristic hesitation to sweep his tongue into Jack's mouth and explore. For a moment, Jack allowed him free rein, then took over the kiss again. That was no surprise, Will thought. Let's face it, Jack was going to call the shots. Then Will stopped thinking as Jack surged his own tongue into Will's mouth, wrenching a groan from both of them as Will began to suck on it rhythmically. Within moments, it became too intense for both of them and they pulled back to stare at each other in shock.  
  
"Oh, God," they said simultaneously. Will laughed nervously, "We seem to say that a lot around each other."  
  
Jack let his hand briefly touch Will's neck before pulling away completely. "Will, I meant what I said before. You went through hell in more ways than one and still had the courage to pick yourself up and keep going. If someone had told me a year ago, that I would tell you that I admire your courage, I would not have believed it."  
  
"Gee, thanks, Jack." Will smiled, feeling more confident now. Jack continued, "But, I meant what I said. I need time to process this..development. To say that this is unexpected, is.And I have some things I need to handle, before we can continue whatever it is."  
  
"You're not going to just avoid this, avoid me, for the rest of our lives?"  
  
"Tippin, one thing I do know about you is just how much perseverance you have and how you keep digging for answers even when it could result in digging your own grave. I have no doubts that you would not let me avoid you."  
  
Both men were silent for a moment. Will finally spoke up, "Well, this has been one of the more.surprising nights of my life. I'm ready to relax. Do you want to watch that movie and see the bad guys bite the dust in the end?" "You're something else. Sure, go make the popcorn." 


	2. Chapters 9 through 20

Chapter 9: "The great thing in this world is not so much where we are, but in which direction we are moving." (Oliver Wendell Holmes):  
  
A few days later, Will finally accepted the girls' offer of pizza and a video. He watched a lot of videos, he was thinking. He had been avoiding Syd and Francie, wondering what Jack might have said about the "intervention", although he expected that Jack would have only given the bare minimum of information. After all, Jack wasn't what one would call a motormouth. To his relief, when he came in the house, Francie merely hugged him and said, "We're so glad you were able to talk with Mr. Bristow about whatever the problem was, Will. Syd was right - man to man was the best way to go on this." He blanched, but neither Syd nor Francie betrayed by so much as a flicker that the comment was meant as a wink-wink type of joke. "Yeah, Jack was right. He always is, well, almost always. I'm back on the straight and narrow, now."  
  
Three-quarters of the way through the movie, Chocolat, Will's cell phone rang. "Hi, Will, it's Jack."  
  
Will felt his heart begin to pound, this was the first time he had heard from Jack since leaving the other night. "I've been trying to reach Sydney. Her cell phone batteries must be out. Is she there?"  
  
"Sure. Just a minute -"  
  
"No, hold on. I want you to know that, remember how I said I had things to do?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Well, I'm about to go out of town on 'business' and I wanted to let you know I'll talk to you when I return."  
  
"Oh! Okay. Be careful."  
  
"I will. Let me speak to Syd." He handed the phone over to Syd, who took it into the other room.  
  
Francie asked, "That was Jack wasn't it?" "Um, yes, why?"  
  
"I can always tell by the look on your face. You get all goofy and turn red. Is there anything you want to talk about, Will?" "Are you kidding? No." "I mean when Syd's not here." "NO!"  
  
"What are you two arguing about?" Syd asked with a smile when she reentered the room.  
  
"Will's love life," Francie said firmly. Will stared at her, mouth agape. Was she insane? Jack was right, she was the most oblivious person in the world to think that this was in any way an appropriate conversation. Geez, now he was sounding like Vaughn, "appropriate conversation"? Time to steer away from these rocks.  
  
Will asked, "So where is your dad headed this time, anyway?" "Paris."  
  
"Paris!" Francie exclaimed. "I wish I'd known. There's a flavoring I would have asked him to pick up for me." Both Will and Syd stared at her. "Do you honestly think my dad is going to traipse around Paris groceries looking for your flavoring?"  
  
"Well..he owes me."  
  
"For what?" Will asked. Before Francie could answer, her phone rang. "Shoot, it's the restaurant, probably some non-emergency that's going to take forever. Just go ahead with the movie."  
  
"No, that's fine, Francie, we'll wait," Will said, although Syd had already turned the move back on and her attention to it. He sighed, but it wasn't like he really cared about the movie. As Francie walked away, she leaned over Will and whispered in his ear, "Although he doesn't know it yet, for setting him up to do that intervention with you. That's what."  
  
Will leaped up to follow her. When they were out of earshot of Sydney, he grabbed her arm and said, "Tell them to wait a minute." Once she did, he demanded, "What do you mean, he owes you for the intervention?"  
  
"You both do. Honestly, how long were the two of you going to go on, without doing anything about what you were feeling about each other?" She laughed at the look of complete stupefaction on Will's face. "And really, you were making me nuts with worry with that drinking after the whole heroin thing."  
  
"Whatever," Will said dismissively and then continued, "The question is, do you really think, how could you tell that Jack had feelings?"  
  
"Well, it IS almost impossible, but since he lets you tease him, and doesn't kill you for that Tippin-family touchy feely stuff-"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"In the beginning, he would act very - Jack-like - you know, stiff and uncomfortable, whenever you touched him the way you do everybody. And now."  
  
"You're killing me here, Francie. 'And now' what?"  
  
"Three weeks ago, you were sitting next to him on the sofa and you got up to get something, most likely more food," she laughed, while Will made hurry up motions with his hands. "You probably didn't even realize it, but you patted his thigh with your hand when you got up. The way you did it and on his thigh yet - it was really going over the line from touchy-feely stuff into.I don't want to know, frankly. I was amazed, I couldn't believe you had done that although I knew it was totally unconscious. I looked at Jack's face to see what Bristow grimace he'd be wearing while he made plans to kill you. But-" she paused.  
  
"I'm gonna kill you," Will growled.  
  
"But he was just looking at his leg and then he reached out his own hand and, I still can't believe it, he just rubbed, lightly, where you had rubbed. Then he looked away. The look of confusion on his face, brief as it was before he masked it, was confirmation of what I had suspected about the two of you the last few months. And then when Syd brought up your drinking around him, well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out cause and effect. But yeah, I think Jack will thank me some day for suggesting that intervention."  
  
"Wow. I didn't.So you think there's a chance?"  
  
"If he lets himself, if you don't allow him to withdraw. Take the risk. You'll have to be the one to take the risks."  
  
"Well, I am persistent."  
  
"No kidding. Now, let me handle my own crisis and you go back to worrying about yours."  
  
The minute he reentered the room, Will turned to Syd and asked, "So, Paris? Weren't you supposed to be going there this week?"  
  
"Yeah, but my dad got me out of it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"The mission was with Sark and my dad knows how I feel about him. Anyway, he said there was someone he wanted to meet with in Paris and decided to kill two birds with one stone and asked Sloane if he could take the mission instead of me."  
  
"In your place?"  
  
"That's what I said, Will."  
  
"With Sark?"  
  
"Are you deaf? Yes."  
  
"Are you blind?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Never mind." They sat there for a minute, Syd staring at Will wondering what that conversation was really about.  
  
Francie darted through. "Sorry guys, I have to go to the restaurant for a while." Syd teased, "So now it's you who never has time for us due to your stinkin' job?" "Ha, ha." Francie yelled as she slammed out the door. Will didn't even say goodbye, just stared into the distance.  
  
"Will, what are you thinking?" He didn't answer for a minute, then asked, "What is it like, really, flying all over the world in private planes or cargo planes, knowing you'll be going on missions when you land?"  
  
"It's not glamorous, if that's what you're thinking."  
  
"No, I've been in one of those planes on the way home from Taipei. Remember? Me missing several teeth? You, shot by your own mother? Your father patching the both of us up, blood all over. Not glamorous." He shook his head and then looked at her penetratingly as he said, "But, I'm thinking of your dad in a plane with Sark. If that's not enough to give a person nightmares." He shuddered, "What do you think about? Do you sleep?"  
  
Syd stared into her coffee for a long moment. "It's like.sometimes I sleep. And wake up in some dark plane. I look out the window and it's dark out there too. No lights or just the lights of some city below. Who knows what city? Is it my destination or just some flyover? If it's just some flyover, when will I get to where I am going? I have to look at my watch all the time so I know where I am. You know what's worse? When I wake up, for the merest moment, a split second, I don't know WHAT I am. I ask myself, 'Am I here with the good guys or the bad guys?' Even when my father is sitting next to me, I don't know. But when he's not sitting next to me, and I wake up and don't know if I'm wearing the black hat or the white hat or both on this mission, I am panicked. I want to scream, like a kid waking up from a nightmare. I don't know where I am or who I am supposed to be."  
  
"And your dad? How does he handle it? Or don't you know?"  
  
Syd smiled wryly, "Oh, that's simple. He never sleeps on those flights."  
  
Chapter 10: "Never interrupt your enemy when he's making a mistake." (Napoleon Bonaparte)  
  
As the SD6 jet left the airfield, Jack reviewed his notes for the short mission in Paris ahead. He smiled as his gaze left his official notes, a mirthless smile, that should have alerted anyone with more than a passing knowledge of Jack Bristow.  
  
Hours later, Sark walked up the aisle of the plane and paused near Jack's seat. He asked, "Do you have any idea where we are?"  
  
Jack looked out the window. "Over Knoxville, Tennessee, I believe."  
  
"You can be that specific in the middle of the night? How do you know what exact godforsaken burg in nowheresville, USA--?" Sark asked incredulously.  
  
"Because that's what Knoxville, Tennessee looks like from the air," Jack said with his usual dry tone, pointing his thumb toward the window.  
  
"Do you know what every city looks like from the air?"  
  
"Of course. I memorized that information a long time ago. That's how I know where I am at all times, even from the air. Is this fascinating geographic discussion concluded, Mr. Sark?" he concluded without looking up.  
  
"So, Jack---"  
  
"I don't believe I've given you permission to call me by my first name. Nor am I planning to do so at any time in the foreseeable future." Jack did not deign to look over at Sark, as the younger man slid into the seat next to him.  
  
"Why the hostility, Mr. Bristow?"  
  
"Do you feel hostility, Mr. Sark? That would imply that I consider you a matter of concern, would it not? And nothing could be further from the truth."  
  
"Is that so? I will have to disagree, respectfully of course, with you. I do sense hostility. Of course, there are numerous reasons for hostility toward me."  
  
"Are there?" Really, Sark was just too obvious in his fishing expeditions. Did he honestly think he was going to hook one of Jack Bristow's vulnerabilities with this line of questioning? It was almost amusing. What would be first? He sat back and waited. Looked over at Sark and smiled.  
  
"Are you jealous of my relationship with Arvin Sloane?"  
  
"No more so than any other little informant we bring in from time to time, use and then lose, Mr. Sark." Jealous of Sloane? Hmm. What did that mean? He needed to file that information away for later dissection.  
  
What would be his next line of attack, Jack wondered? "Or is it the amount of 'quality time' I've spent with your lovely former wife?" Jack stopped himself from laughing aloud and merely raised an eyebrow. "She is amazing, though, and so passionate, isn't she, Mr. Bristow? Do you remember when she was Mrs. Bristow and warming YOUR bed?" "Vaguely," Jack answered, yawning.  
  
"We could pass the time on the flight comparing notes on what she was like in bed." "We could, but I am sure I'd fall asleep fairly quickly." Okay, Irina was number two. What else was on his list?  
  
"Well, then there's the matter of your little 'friend,'" Sark sniped with an emphasis on the word friend. When Jack made no comment, again just raised an eyebrow quizzically, Sark continued, "Yes, your Mr. Tippin. You remember him - tall, blond, nicely-built fellow with beautiful blue eyes?"  
  
"I know Mr. Tippin, what of him?"  
  
"Such a shame my dentist disfigured that lovely, talented mouth of his, wasn't it?" Years of self-discipline paid off, Jack thought, as he restrained himself from punching Sark in the mouth and performing some dental work of his own. "I don't understand your point, Mr. Sark."  
  
"Didn't your Mr. Tippin tell you? Perhaps not. Clearly he wasn't your Mr. Tippin yet at the time I met him. His - inexperience - showed. I'm glad I could do you the favor and help break him in for you. Although, I did you another favor and didn't take his cherry. Aren't you glad? I can see you might be the type of man who would want to be the first. Mr. Tippin therefore may not have told you about our relatively innocuous little - interlude -- shall we say? Perhaps, all evidence to the contrary, he may know when to keep his mouth shut. Although you couldn't prove it by my experience with him."  
  
Ye gods, no wonder Will felt sick at the thought of what had transpired with Sark. Jack was starting to feel nauseous himself at the thought of this piece of filth and his disgusting mouth anywhere near someone as innocent as Will had been.  
  
"No comment, Mr. Bristow?"  
  
What did Sark think might be the truth and what was the best way to deflect him? If Sark got even a hint that his suppositions might be correct.. "Just one question - why do you keep referring to him as 'my' Mr. Tippin?"  
  
"Well, there is the little matter that the whole time I was, shall we say, alleviating some of his stress, he kept moaning your name. And he wasn't calling you, 'Mr. Bristow.' Then there is the way he fell into your arms when the transfer was complete. That would seem to imply a closer relationship than I would have expected a friend of Syd's to have with her father. And you have been spending time with him, according to Arvin."  
  
"Your reasoning is unsound, Mr. Sark. First of all, Mr. Tippin has always called me Jack. He's informal. Secondly, I daresay that Mr. Tippin was calling my name, if he was calling my name, because he was hoping that I would rescue him. Thirdly, please don't insult my intelligence by trying to make more of any sexual episode you inflicted upon him as yet another way of psychological torture and intimidation. We both know better than to think a man's response in that situation is anything like his normal inclinations. And I would not say he fell into my arms in that alley, but rather that he fell on me because he could no longer walk. Finally, I do spend time with him, with my daughter and her friends. They are my friends, as well. So, Tippin was number three on your little list. Surely, you have something more worthy of my supposed hostility than Sloane, Derevko or Tippin?"  
  
"Well, there is the little matter of your ever-so-lovely daughter, Sydney, isn't there?" "Is there?"  
  
"Yes. I can't say I've had the intimate pleasure of knowing her the way I know your Mr. Tippin, but I've come close," Sark said with a sneer. Or was that a leer? Either way, his face was going to be rearranged. Quite soon.  
  
"I find it hard to believe that Sydney would let you anywhere near her unless she was unconscious, Mr. Sark. You're just not her type." "What type is that?" "Vaguely human." Ah, a hit judging by the way Sark's jaw clenched. How would he retaliate?  
  
"Sydney looked very human there when my men were scrubbing her naked body of the hazardous chemicals in Estonia. Very.beautiful. So enticing that I could not help but relieving some of my own stresses while watching her being scrubbed."  
  
He wanted to gag, to retch. Instead he leveled his coldest stare on this piece of scum. "Are you trying to shock me, Mr. Sark? The fact that you jerked yourself off while watching my daughter being cleaned of chemicals is not shocking, merely pathetic. Now, are you done trying to assess this so-called hostility you are intent upon finding? I have a mission to review, even if you prefer to fly by the seat of your pants. And some professional advice, Mr. Sark? If you wish to remain in our line of work, you really need to spend more time with your cock in your pants and start using the head above the neck to plan strategies." Jack looked down at his notes, while surreptitiously observing the flush of anger that suffused Sark's face. The younger man vaulted out of the seat and across the plane.  
  
Modifications needed to be made to the plan, Jack thought. Serious modifications. When they stopped in New York to change planes so that they could arrive separately, he left Sark behind quickly in the hangar. Once out of sight and range of any of the equipment Sark thought he had so carefully hidden on the plane to bug Jack, he retrieved his phone, his scrambler and dialed his Parisian contact. "I need to add someone to the crew - someone good with a knife."  
  
Chapter 11: "To see what is in front of one's nose requires a constant struggle." (George Orwell)  
  
Several days later, Syd dialed Will and asked to meet him for dinner while Francie was at the restaurant. Over take-out Chinese, Will watched her curiously. Syd seemed both anxious and exhilarated. Finally, he said, "What is it, already? You look like you're going to explode."  
  
"It's about Sark." "What about him? Is that son of a bitch still in town?"  
  
"No, actually he's in an SD6 hospital in France."  
  
"What happened? Did someone run him over or shoot him and put the rest of us out of our misery?" "He and my father were on a mission in Paris. Afterwards, Sark was alone and he was attacked by some thugs on the street. Just a random act of violence in a big city." Will stared at her. "Let me get this straight - he's a super terrorist and he gets attacked by some street thugs? The irony of it is.fabulous."  
  
"Yeah. And he really was beaten badly." "How badly?" Will asked with relish.  
  
"You're more happy about this than I am, aren't you? Let's see, both knees were broken, his upper left arm, his lower right arm, his right hand was stomped on - I forget how many bones were broken there." "Christ. Why did they attack him, anyway?"  
  
"They wanted money, apparently. And then when he wised off to the original mugger, the rest came out of an alley. They came from behind, really professional I guess, and got his gun before he had a chance to fire. There were four of them, plus some other guy who didn't participate until the end."  
  
"The end?" "At the end, this guy came out with a knife and cut him." "Where?"  
  
"Well, that's the odd thing. Apparently Sark thought he was going to just be gutted and killed, but the knifer came over and methodically cut his lips and around his mouth in numerous places. He's going to have major scars. Must be some kind of a gang ritual or something."  
  
Will sat there, for once in his life, utterly speechless. For he knew what those scars meant. Payback, Jack Bristow style.  
  
"So, it's going to take him forever to recover and then he'll have to have plastic surgery. And the great thing is that this takes him out of the game, for all intents and purposes."  
  
"That's a good thing, right?" Will finally managed to ask. Syd smiled. "The best news I've had in a very long while. Let me tell you, if we could ID those muggers -"  
  
"I suppose there's no chance of that, is there?" "What? Nah, no one's even going to look into it, it was so clearly just a random act. But, like I was saying, if we could ID those guys, I'd be happy to buy them each a bottle of wine to thank them."  
  
"A little bloodthirsty, Syd?" "You don't know, Will, what it's been like, what it's like seeing that smarmy face across the table every day. Every day I had to fight the urge to just smash his nose right up into his brain, like I was taught in one of my martial arts classes on killing someone quickly. Between what he did to you - that dental torture -" Will started breathing again. He didn't believe Jack would tell anyone what he had confessed to him, but.Syd was still speaking, "-and what he did to me, well, let's just say."  
  
"If you don't mind my asking, what did he do to you?" Will asked.  
  
Syd thought for a moment, clearly wondering just how much to tell Will. "Sorry, Syd, you don't have to tell me the specifics or anything for that matter. Having spent time with Sark, I know the kind of animal he is."  
  
"Suffice to say he put me in an untenable position where I had to make the worst choice of my life, the kind of choice that changes your life. And then, I found it was only a ploy, a game. He likes the games, he likes to play with people's minds."  
  
"Yeah." "And then on top of it all, when he captured me in Estonia, I had to be scrubbed down in a decon unit-" "Decon?" "Decontamination unit. He had me sprayed with hazardous chemicals to get me to acquiesce to his demands and so I then had to be scrubbed down. That would have been bad enough, but then he stood there the whole time, watching me, with this look on his face.. I have never felt so dirty in my whole life."  
  
"Yeah, I know the feeling."  
  
"You know the feeling?"  
  
"I mean, I can imagine, having that piece of human trash seeing you naked. Well, he got what was due him, I guess."  
  
"Absolutely. And the best part of it is that his usefulness to Sloane may be over. Sloane asked my dad to stay behind in Paris and quote unquote debrief Sark at the SD6 hospital. That way he's under our control and my dad could do his work and get all the possible intel out of the bastard."  
  
"What do you mean, his work?"  
  
"Don't ask, you don't want to know how my dad gets his information, Will." "You're probably right. So," Will said, trying to strike the right casual note, "when will your dad be back?"  
  
"Oh, given my dad's history of debriefing, it shouldn't take too much longer. He may even be done by now - he's been with Sark for several days."  
  
"What a job. Is there any more moogoo gaipan?"  
  
"Honestly, Will, do you ever think about anything but your stomach?" Syd laughed.  
  
Chapter 12: "The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources." (Albert Einstein)  
  
Meanwhile, somewhere over the Atlantic, the first class flight attendant asked Jack, "Would you like a cocktail, sir?" "Do you have Moet?" "Why yes, certainly." As she poured the sparkling wine into a flute she asked, "Champagne for a special occasion?"  
  
"Yes, I have just set up a major business deal, possibly the deal of a lifetime."  
  
"My congratulations, sir."  
  
"Thank you," Jack said with a small smile. "To Emily," he whispered silently, as he looked out the window, never noticing the admiring glances she threw his way during the flight.  
  
Chapter 13: In vino veritas? Maybe not.  
  
"Honestly, Will Tippin, what are you doing in a liquor store?" Francie demanded from the end of the aisle. He jumped a mile. Clearly, he was not spy material, he thought to himself.  
  
"What's that little smile for, anyway?" Francie demanded. "It's no laughing matter. You have a drinking problem and here you are." she said as she hurried over to him.  
  
"Francie, keep it down, for crying out loud. First of all, I don't have a drinking problem. I learned my lesson about drinking to escape my problems. I had a problem, which I solved. As you and Syd wanted, I can pretty much guarantee that with Jack's little 'intervention' I won't be having the problem any more."  
  
"Oh, really? So, Jack helped solve your problem?" Francie asked archly, albeit in a whisper. "Stop it, just stop it." Will whispered back. "And help me pick out a nice bottle of red wine. Or would you recommend a chardonnay?" "For Jack? He likes merlot, actually. Pay attention to the details, Will."  
  
Later that evening."So, Syd, I met Will today at the liquor store." "Oh? Oh! Do you think that's okay?"  
  
"He was real vehement about it being okay. I guess he convinced me. And anyway, the vintage of wine he was buying was way too expensive to use just as a way to get drunk. Will is nothing else if not cheap. If he just wanted to get drunk, believe me, there are quicker and cheaper ways than that vintage. I don't even stock it at my restaurant."  
  
"You're right, he is SO cheap. Wow, he's never bought us an expensive bottle of wine before. I wonder why now?"  
  
"Syd, I don't think it was for us."  
  
"No? Oh, does he have a hot date? That would be good, wouldn't it? I mean, when's the last time he had a date?" Syd was smiling happily. Will needed to get his life back on track and it looked like maybe that was happening.  
  
Francie muttered, "Oh, I think he's had plenty of them in the last few months. Or at least a version of dates, anyway."  
  
"What? He's had dates? Why didn't I know about them? Why didn't he tell me? Don't tell me that he thought I'd feel bad that he finally got over the ridiculous notion that he had romantic feelings for me? I'm thrilled, really thrilled for him. I should tell him." Francie choked and Syd glanced at her and continued, "I just hope whoever he's been dating is really nice." Francie choked again. "Are you okay, Francie? Yeah, I hope she's nice, but doesn't take any crap, and well, kind of takes care of him. Don't you think someone needs to keep Will in line, but also take care of him?"  
  
Francie stared in amazement at Syd. For all her obliviousness about other people, occasionally she hit the nail right on the head. "You are so right, Syd. I never thought about it that way. But somebody does need to take care of that guy. He can't do it himself. Although, lately, he's a lot more grounded, don't you think? But you're right, he'll probably always need someone to help KEEP him grounded. And in turn, the person would get from Will--"  
  
"Someone sweet, honest and caring, generous with his feelings. I hope this person is the right one. Will could use a break." Francie stared at her for a moment and then shook her head to clear it.  
  
"Okay, that's what Will needs. How about you, Syd?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know. Someone who can handle my job-"  
  
"That stinking job, again! How about if you meet the right person you'd be willing to just chuck that job?"  
  
"Not again, Francie. How about you?"  
  
"I don't know, someone honest, I guess after Charlie. Totally trustworthy," Francie said firmly. "That would be a nonnegotiable point."  
  
Syd stared off. After a while, Francie asked, "What are you thinking?" Syd was thinking about her parents, but of course she couldn't really say that. As far as Francie knew, Laura Bristow had been Mrs. Perfect Wife and Mother. "My dad. What he needs. I guess someone totally trustworthy too, I mean when you work in that cutthroat environment he does, trust is important. Patient, persistent - you'd have to be persistent to cut through that shell he wears. And someone who can make him laugh, get him to loosen up. I wish you had known my dad before we lost my mother. He was such a different person."  
  
"Actually, Syd, your dad has been a lot different recently, don't you think?"  
  
"Yeah, he's been a lot more relaxed lately. He seems.happy, almost. That's why I was remembering how he used to be. But back to Will. So, who's the wine for, do you know?"  
  
"Um, actually, the wine is for your father." Would Syd pick up on the hint? Probably not.  
  
"My father? Oh, to welcome him back to town? Dad is always going out of town. What's the big deal with that with Will anyway? And still, to spend that much money on wine when Will wouldn't even appreciate the vintage." She stopped suddenly. Francie watched Syd's face get what she referred to as the "lightbulb" effect. Finally.."Oh, my God. My father.." Her father had set up Sark. And Will knew? How, why?  
  
"Honey, you're not too upset are you?" Huh, what? What was Francie talking about? Why would Francie think that Syd would care if Will bought her father a whole case of wine, Francie didn't know what the wine meant.  
  
"Why would I be upset?" Syd countered, as her mind reeled with the implications. Why, suddenly, had her father decided to gut Sark? What could have happened and what did Will know that allowed him, but not her, to make the connection between the seemingly-random act of violence and her father? "Do I even want to know?" she muttered.  
  
"Okay, you don't have to know now, but sooner or later." Francie said warningly.  
  
"Well, whatever. So, what do you want to do tonight - we actually both have the night free! Girls' night out!" Syd smiled, glad she had distracted Francie.  
  
Francie shook her head. Boy, could Syd be obtuse when she wanted.  
  
Chapter 14: "A good friend who points out mistakes and imperfections and rebukes evil is to be respected as if he reveals a secret of hidden treasure." (Buddha)  
  
The next day, Syd cornered Will in the kitchen of Francie's restaurant. "I need to talk to you. Now."  
  
"Sure, just a minute. I'm helping--"  
  
"No, now."  
  
"Alright, already." Syd hauled Will into the alley and pulled out some piece of electronica. Will reached for it, but Syd slapped his hand away. "Stop it. You don't need to play with it. So, how did you know that my dad had Sark attacked, what or who told you that?"  
  
Will stared at her in surprise. "Oh, I guess Francie told you about the wine."  
  
"Yeah. I want answers. Now." Will started to laugh, "You remind me so much of Jack when you said that. That was good, Syd."  
  
"I mean it, Will Tippin."  
  
Will continued laughing. "Actually, Syd, I planned on giving him that bottle from the two of us, so don't get your knickers into a twist. You owe me $50."  
  
"I still want to know how you figured it out."  
  
Will sobered. "That's between your father and me, it's.personal." "Personal?" "You know, personal - that type of relationship you try to avoid having with Jack?" Sydney reared back. "What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I mean, do you have no clue whatsoever about who your father is? What. Never mind. Why do YOU think he would have Sark taken care of? You're the super spy, aren't you? Figure it out." He started to walk away and stopped.  
  
Will turned around and walk back in front of Sydney. "Let me ask you this, what do you think about what he did?"  
  
Syd crossed her arms, as she stated emphatically, "He shouldn't have done it. It was wrong."  
  
"Why was it great when you thought it was just random violence, but now that you know the truth it's something horrible?"  
  
"Because he shouldn't have done it. And then .what making those kind of choices does to you, Will."  
  
"How about what taking no action when the people you care about are hurt? What does that do to you? What or rather who is more important here, your father or that piece of scum, Sark?" She said nothing and Will felt his anger rise.  
  
"You know, Syd, originally I bought this bottle for the two of us to give him. I was going to suggest that both of us bring it out to his house and surprise him. But you know what? I wonder if you even know where he lives."  
  
"Of course I do!" Syd protested.  
  
"Do you? When's the last time you went there? Why is your dad always tracking you down?" She refolded her arms. "Will, my relationship with my dad is..complicated." "Duh. No kidding. But you know what - it's complicated by the fact largely that. You. Need. To. Grow. Up."  
  
"Who do you think you are?" Syd began.  
  
Will cut her off. "I am your friend, Jack's friend. I see what you apparently don't. Do you have any idea, any idea at all, how it would make your dad feel to know that you think it's great that random Parisian thugs carved up Sark, but that you are incensed that he had it done? Do you have any idea how it makes you dad feel that you are ready to forgive your mother, you seem to find it so easy to hug her, forgive her, but your dad - he has to work for every little thing, doesn't he? No, he hasn't been perfect, he needs to work at his emotions. But sometimes, sometimes, I just cringe at how you rebuff his attempts, how you can't even meet him halfway, like his attempts are...," he looked around, "like the garbage in this dumpster. While your mom-what, her shit don't smell?"  
  
Syd interrupted, "Leave my mother out of this!"  
  
"No, I can't. Have you forgotten she abandoned you?"  
  
"No, but she may not have had much choice."  
  
"We all have choices, some better than others, no doubt. She could have come clean with your father at any time - she had ten years to do so. TEN YEARS, Syd. She could have cut a deal. She cut a deal now with lots more blood on her hands, so twenty years ago? Yeah, she could have done it. Your dad would have figured something out. And don't tell me that your father wouldn't have done it for her, for you all. When Jack loves someone, he does so deeply, irrevocably, doesn't he?"  
  
"But he made choices, too, Will, after she left."  
  
"And those choices, those mistakes are somehow worse than what your mother did? Give me a fucking break. Your mother used Jack for ten years. I still can't get over that. Even if she did have some feelings for him, what kind of feelings are those that allow you to deceive someone in the most intimate of ways.ten years. At the time your dad was what, about thirty? She used him for a third of his life, Syd. He was about our age. Imagine if you will," he said in his best Rod Sterling voice, "That you've been married for years to - oh, I don't know - Vaughn? You have a kid together, you see your whole life in front of you and then suddenly one day, you find out he's KGB and he's gone, leaving you holding the bag."  
  
"That's ridiculous! Vaughn would never." She trailed off, caught.  
  
"Right. And isn't that what your dad probably said when he first was told that Laura Bristow was really Irina Derevko? Topic? You're mad because you think he abandoned you too? And somehow that's worse than your mom's abandonment. Ask yourself why that is." Will waited, but Syd said nothing.  
  
"And another thing, while we are on the subject. Did you ever ask why he became emotionally unavailable? Have you ever had that conversation?"  
  
"Once, we kind of did. He denied it, but I think it was because he saw my mother in me."  
  
"If he sees your mother in you, it's the Laura Bristow he knew and loved, not the Irina Derevko, international crime leader. Wasn't that after the Madagascar bombing? Didn't he tell a panel of senators how much he loved you?"  
  
"How do you know that?" Syd asked.  
  
"I asked him a question about that incident and he told me how he said that and the next time he saw you, he was hoping.but nothing. But back-"  
  
"You asked him a question? And he answered?"  
  
"Sure. I ask obnoxious questions and just keep asking them, remember? Just ask Jack and sometimes, not always, you can get a really interesting answer, Syd. You have to be persistent with Jack, Syd. Just ask him and keeping asking him. Ask him about what happened after your mom left. Think about it. He is fooled, humiliatingly so, by his so-called wife for ten years. Fooled him, one of the best agents in the business. Destroyed him as a man, as a professional. Who is he, what is he? What's left? And then he gets punished, he gets suspected, and gets thrown in solitary for all those months? What does that do to you? Did you ever think about that Syd?"  
  
"No, I.I wonder, though, what do you think about for that whole time?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know, the fact that if you are found guilty, you get the death penalty? Have you ever asked him about that?"  
  
"No," she said quietly.  
  
"Do you know he is rereading a bunch of the books they gave him in prison right now? Trying to relearn something, I'm not sure what? You're the book person, do you know what he's doing?" "No."  
  
"Of course not. The world revolves around you, doesn't it? You're too busy bonding with your mother," Will spat out in derision. "Did you forget that she killed people, not in a nice way either from what I understand from Vaughn. Did you forget she killed Vaughn's father? What is wrong with you? You're 28 years old and you still act like your father should have been and still should be some kind of goddamned comic book superhero, without flaws, without mistakes, always able to save the day in some kind of clean, no-one-gets-hurt way. Grow. Up." Turning on his heel, Will walked away.  
  
"So, did you have a fight with Will or something?" Francie asked later a few days later. "Will was acting like he was ticked at you."  
  
"It was weird. Really odd." Syd said slowly.  
  
Francie asked carefully, "In what way?"  
  
"Will, well, he seems to know more about how my dad operates, how he thinks than I do."  
  
"Well, is that such a surprise?" "Yes!"  
  
"Why should it be? Will spends a lot more time with Jack than you do, doesn't he? And give Will the credit that he is good at getting people to open up. If nothing else, he's really good at asking questions."  
  
"I suppose. Maybe." Syd trailed off.  
  
"Maybe what?" Francie asked. Maybe Syd finally had a clue?  
  
"Maybe I should spend more time with my dad?"  
  
"That's a good idea if you truly want to know him better and not because you're just jealous of Will's relationship with him."  
  
"You're the second person to accuse me of acting like a child where my dad is concerned."  
  
"Well, I'm the first person to say that your dad wasn't the best growing up, but he does seem to be trying really hard now and maybe you should let him in, do more things with him." "Like what?"  
  
"How about we get two more tickets to the Hollywood Bowl and the four of us can go to a concert together one of these days? I'll look at the schedule and find something we all can like."  
  
"Oh, you mean, me, you, dad and Will?"  
  
"Of course. You know your dad and Will are always hanging out, they really are best friends." Okay, that was a really big hint, Syd. You gonna catch it? No, of course not, Syd really needed to look outside herself a little more. Big internal sigh from Francie.  
  
Chapter 15: "The art of love.is largely the art of persistence." (Albert Ellis)  
  
"So, this is the new apartment?" Jack asked as he walked in two weeks later, two of the longest weeks of Will's life. Although Will had talked with Jack on the phone, always at the former's instigation, he'd only seen Jack once since he'd returned from Paris and that had been by accident at the girls' house. Then he had cornered Jack as he left and asked when they were going to talk. At the time, he'd thought Jack seemed both preoccupied and, almost, nervous. When he had later told Syd about the preoccupation, she had agreed and told him that something was going on, she could almost see the wheels spinning in Jack's head at SD6, particularly when he was in a meeting with Sloane. She guessed he must have found out something useful from Sark's debriefing, but as usual, her father was playing his cards close to his chest. Jack Bristow, she reminded him, was very fond of the idea of telling people information on a need to know basis only.  
  
Will had a different approach and wasted no time in telling Francie that he thought Jack was nervous. "Well, of course he is, you idiot," Francie had said. "Why?" "Why? First off, it's obvious that his wife's death totally screwed him up emotionally. From what Syd's said, he pretty much closed down after that. And you are asking him to open up. Which is a good thing. But then there's the whole little factor of, oh I don't know," she said sarcastically, "That you are both men? Jack's gonna have to wrap his mind around that. It's going to take a little time." "But I don't think it's a good idea to back off," Will countered. Francie agreed, "No, me either. He'll just close himself off again." "What should I do?" he asked. Francie stared at him for a moment, tapped her fingers on her chin and finally said, "Just be yourself, Will. He obviously responds to that. Just be yourself." And so he had persisted.  
  
"Yeah, the apartment's not much, but it's mine for now. No more living with the girls. No more chick flicks on video night just because I am grateful to have a place to live. Hopefully if the job goes well, I'll trade up to something better in a few months. But right now I want to save my money." Oh, brother, he was babbling. Jack had gone over to the kitchen light fixture and was testing the bugkiller Syd had installed to make sure it was functional.  
  
"Really?" Jack asked sarcastically looking at the counter, "Then why this vintage of wine here? That costs an arm and a leg." Looking at his back, Will realized that Jack seemed anxious.  
  
"That's from Syd and me." Will took a deep breath as he walked into the kitchen as well. "Syd told me about what happened to Sark when he was in Paris. She said, at the time, that if she knew who those muggers were that had done him in, she'd buy them a great bottle of wine."  
  
Jack whirled and faced Will. "You know?"  
  
"Of course. That whole incident had your fingerprints all over it. And then when she told me about how Sark's mouth was cut up and will have major scars on it-"  
  
Jack interrupted, "Well, that was a last minute modification to the plan after having to spend hours with that piece of filth in the plane on the way to Paris."  
  
"I see. He didn't know how to keep his mouth shut?" he asked Jack looking him in the eyes. "No," Jack said quietly.  
  
"So, that which caused the problem is that which will pay? Poetic, in a scary kind of way. I may be just a desk jockey at the CIA, but when I heard about the knifing 'ritual', I know how to put two and two together."  
  
"Syd knows?"  
  
"Francie saw me buying the wine, actually she picked it out, and told her. Syd also can add. She doesn't know why I could figure it out or that there's anything meaningful about the knife. That's my personal business, not hers."  
  
Jack asked cautiously, his body tense, "What do you think about what I did?"  
  
"Well, I figured out that taking care of Sark was one of those things you mentioned having to do before you and I continued our.discussion." He paused and arched an eyebrow of his own in Jack's direction.  
  
"Very good, Tippin."  
  
"Knowing you, Jack, I figured that there was no way we could have that discussion, from your point of view, while the guy who caused me those.problems.was wallowing around like a pig in shit, enjoying all the intel and power at SD6. I also figure that getting him out of the way and thereby getting an opportunity to interrogate him didn't hurt your ultimate game plan." Jack sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs.  
  
"Surprised you, didn't I?" Will said happily, leaning against the counter. "I think I'm getting pretty good at the analysis stuff."  
  
"Either that or you have just been spending way too much time with the Bristows," Jack said stiffly.  
  
"Oh, loosen up, Jack. I've got no problems with what you did. In a perfect world, violence would not be necessary. In a perfect world, people like Sark and Sloane would not even exist. In a perfect world, you would not feel the need to protect the people you care about. But that's not where we live, is it? So, do you want a drink of that wine?"  
  
"No, not tonight. Let's save it." Will smiled slowly. 'Save it' - that meant that Jack was assuming there would be other occasions to drink that wine.  
  
"Okay, so what else is on your mind? Make a list for me, I'm sure you've got one in your head," Will said with a smile.  
  
Jack stared and then said slowly, "So, we're having THAT conversation? Right now."  
  
"Yes. But, actually, I thought it would be easier to make a list. You like lists, I know." "You made a list?" Jack asked in disbelief. "Sure," he said, pulling a paper out of his back pocket and handing it to Jack. "You wrote it down?" "Of course I did," Will shrugged.  
  
"That's right, you're a writer, of course you'd write it down," Jack said absently as he began scanning the list. Will plunked himself down in the chair next to Jack so that he could watch his face as he read. Now HE felt nervous. He alternated running his hands through his hair and tapping his fingers on the table, then began jiggling his legs nervously.  
  
Jack kept shooting him looks of exasperation and finally exploded, "Stop it already! You're making me nuts."  
  
"Say something already! You're making ME nuts." They both stopped glaring as they realized how ridiculous they were being and began to laugh.  
  
"You know, Will," Jack began, shaking his head. "You have all those reasons listed that you think would be my objections to having a relationship with you, but you didn't make a list of the reasons in favor."  
  
"Oh, I thought they were."  
  
"Obvious? What an ego," Jack laughed as Will pulled a face. The younger man asked, "Well, if we were to make that list, what would it include?"  
  
Jack responded, "Honestly, at the top would be the way you make me laugh. I've laughed more with you than I have in the last twenty years, at least here in LA."  
  
Will smiled, but then said with care, "Don't you think it's a little broader than that?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Feeling nervous himself, but pressing on nonetheless, Will asked, "Don't you think .don't you feel like we make each other happy? And don't you think that's the important thing, the most important thing?" Jack pulled back slightly, obviously taken off guard. Will pushed ahead, "Remember so long ago, was it five months ago? When we had that conversation about Syd and Vaughn and I asked you if it mattered if they were happy? And you kind of dismissed it?"  
  
"Yes, I remember that."  
  
"Do you think you dismissed happiness because it had been so long since you'd felt that way that you'd forgotten how important it is?" And then waited. But not for long, Jack stood up and pushed away from the table and began pacing. Well, that was predictable. Will remained in his chair. If he got up now, Jack would just get more defensive.  
  
"I asked you a question and I'd like an answer," Will said firmly. Jack stopped pacing and raised an eyebrow in surprise at Will's demand. "I asked you several questions last time we were at your house, verbally or.. otherwise. That list is really a series of questions. So, now I'd appreciate some responses." He watched Jack's eyes narrow.  
  
"Will, I feel it would be more productive and in our best interests-" Will cut him off, "Jack, don't try to evade the issues by resorting to that verbal formality you love to use to intimidate people."  
  
Jack clenched his lips together tightly and then to Will's surprise, he smiled ruefully, "Well, there's another intimidation tactic blown to hell with you."  
  
Will smiled back, but his next words carried a bit of a sting. "Does the fact that I can see into you, at least sometimes, at least partially, fall into the positive or the negative category on your own list, Jack?" Jack looked away and his mouth opened, but before he could respond Will continued, "You realize that the same is true for you, that you know me better than almost anyone I could imagine? You realize that is because we have been.lucky enough to have a connection with each other?"  
  
Jack looked back with a shocked visage, "You think you are lucky to have a connection with me?"  
  
"Are you kidding? I'm not stupid. When you feel like this, when the other person feels the same, yeah, that's what I call lucky."  
  
"You're sure I feel the same, aren't you? How-" he trailed off.  
  
"Before you get worried that that poker face of yours gave something away, don't. It was just instinct, or maybe even just hope, until I kissed you that night. Just a feeling I had, nothing substantial, nothing I could make a list about," he laughed quietly, thinking he would avoid telling him about Francie's instincts. "But then when you responded." Will watched in amusement as Jack looked away, with a slight tinge of red on his cheekbones.  
  
"And I think you're wondering if that kiss was a fluke." Will teased, "Some bizarre anomaly in your otherwise happily heterosexual life?"  
  
First shock fell across Jack's face as he looked back at Will, "How did you know-", then his lips quirked upward, "Happily heterosexual?"  
  
"Hey," Will said as he stood up, "It got you to smile when I know you'd rather die of embarrassment." Jack stared at him. "And let me ask you this - in terms of last time being a fluke? Have you thought about it since then?" Jack just continued looking at him, still in shock, Will thought. He continued talking as he walked closer, "I know I have." Watching closely, he saw Jack swallow hard. One part of his brain was astonished that Jack had given that much away; Syd had told him that her father was a master at hiding any sign of emotion when necessary. He thought, fleetingly, that it was a good sign that Jack didn't feel it was necessary now. Using that idea to bolster his courage, he stepped in front of Jack. Raising his hand to Jack's jaw, he said quietly, "Let's see if it was an anamoly." Will smiled as he leaned toward Jack, giving him time to retreat if he wanted. His careful approach was abandoned moments later as their lips met. The initial, tentative exploration quickly escalated into something much more carnal as Jack took control, using his lips and tongue to reduce Will's brain to mush. When he moved his head, Will thought it was just to reangle their mouths, but when Jack took the opportunity to nip and then suck at Will's lower lip, he had to grab Jack's arms. More cautiously, Jack clasped Will's arms as well and then resumed feasting on Will's mouth. Much later, Jack pulled back and looked at Will as both caught their breath, as they dropped their hands.  
  
Will spoke, "I'm thinking, that the kiss last time was no fluke, Jack, how about you?"  
  
"You can actually think right now?" Jack quipped and then clamped his lips together as if he'd said too much.  
  
"Barely, to tell you the truth. I have to tell you, I never expected that you would be so."  
  
"What?" Jack asked. "Now it's my turn to be incoherent. Your mouth, Jack, I've never been kissed like that in my life. It was like sex." To his surprise, Will saw a touch of red again wash Jack's face. "Have trouble with compliments? Hmm, well, there is a way to keep me from talking, you know."  
  
"I'll take that under advisement, Tippin," Jack said with a small smile, but then sobered as he continued, "I need some time, though, before we go much further." "Oh, you mean, like second or third base?" "Tippin." "Okay, seriously, what do you want the time for, just so we can be clear on this?"  
  
"You know what I do, what I am. Apparently you're willing to take risks. But first of all I need to think about how to minimize your safety risks. I have to do that, Will. I can't live with myself otherwise."  
  
"I understand, Jack. That's part of who you are." Jack nodded slowly. Will went on, "I just want to make clear that I never expected that our public behavior would change. And I have every confidence that you can control what anyone could find out about your, our, private life. If there is anything you need me to do to help with that, ask. Don't feel you need to do everything on your own. I would hope that if we are involved that it would not be one more problem for you, but rather that I would be someone to share your problems with." Jack opened his mouth, but Will spoke quickly. "I know, I know, you can't tell me what's going on, blah, blah, blah, for my own good. But, when it comes to private matters, private safety, I expect you to include me. In fact, I want you to promise me that you will tell me what's going on and use me as a sounding board, a partner, whatever, if it would help. Promise?"  
  
"Moving along-"  
  
Will interrupted him, "No, you don't. Don't try that distraction so you don't have to promise. I know if you look me in the eye and promise you'll feel honor bound to keep it. So I want to hear you say it."  
  
Jack shook his head wonderingly, "You know me too well. Fine, I promise. It's not going to be easy for me though." Will nodded and asked, "Anything else?"  
  
"It's all about the risks, I think. I've not been open with anyone in so long, I've thought it too risky and with my job, my life, it has been. But you-"  
  
"It's my choice, Jack."  
  
"I hope.And then, although I heard what you said about masculinity not being tied to heterosexuality, let me have some time to make sure my head is in the same place as my body. It wouldn't be fair to either of us." "Fine." "You don't sound worried." "After that kiss? No, I'm not worried. But - the list?"  
  
"God, you want to talk more? Haven't we covered it all, already, in this form of torture you call having a conversation?" Jack groaned. Will pointed at the piece of paper still on the table. Jack snatched it up with a dirty look. "Let's see, you wrote down 'age difference'. To tell you the truth, I never even thought about it," Jack smiled then. "Maybe that's MY ego talking. And if by age, you meant maturity," he said teasingly as Will pretended to be offended, "I think you've demonstrated, especially in this conversation, as painful as I found it, that you may be more mature than I am when it comes to discussing these types of matters. What's next? Am I worried about you simply transferring your affections from one Bristow to another? I don't even want to go there, Tippin." He gave a mock shudder and then said, "I figured by what you said about and how you looked on the tape of that bar incident with Alice, that by then you had begun seeing Sydney again as more of a friend, than anything else."  
  
"Good call."  
  
"And everything else, we've covered. Are we done now? Can we stop being honest and talking about emotions before my head explodes from the stress?" Jack said with exasperated impatience.  
  
Will laughed. "Yeah, we can stop. And Jack, thanks for having this talk, I know it was difficult for you."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes, "As if you would not have just kept persisting until I gave in? I knew when to cut my losses."  
  
"So, persistence is the key with you? I was hoping you would look upon it as cutting down on the time wasted before--"  
  
"Whatever. Do you want to go out somewhere?"  
  
"Sure, let me get the paper." "Before we go anywhere," Jack called out as Will went into the living room, "Comb your hair. It's a mess. Why you don't have enough self discipline to stop doing that." "Really, Bristow?" Will called back, "Like your self discipline when you get up and pace?" Silence from the other room. It's going to be fine, Will thought, as he dragged a comb through his hair.  
  
Chapter 16: "There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved; It is God's finger on man's shoulder." (Charles Morgan)  
  
Several weeks later, the quartet loaded up Syd's SUV for their outing. Francie had gotten them all tickets to a special benefit performance of the LA Pops orchestra with a "Cavalcade of Stars" (Will had winced at the hokey pr). Performing artists from a variety of musical genres would be singing to benefit the LA Food Pantry, a charity dear to Francie's heart, as a foodie. She had also thought that the wide variety on stage that night would have a good chance of pleasing everyone, given that she had no clue what Jack Bristow's taste in music might be. When she said that on the drive over, Will moaned, "Oh, for the love of God, don't get him started on music already. If I have to hear one more time."  
  
"Sorry, modern pop music - hip hop and rap - is just pure crap. There's no melody line and---"  
  
"Shut up, Jack. I've heard it before, about a million times. You can go to the concessions if there's any of that 'crap'. Alright?"  
  
"Boy, Will, eve since you and Jack got to our place, you've been testy! Didn't get enough sleep last night or what!" Francie accused.  
  
"We'll have a conversation, later, Tippin," Jack warned. Sydney looked over at Francie and both giggled. They knew what that tone of voice meant. Will was in trouble, nah, nah, nah.  
  
When they parked, Jack and Will unpacked the car. Jack shooed the women ahead. Syd and Francie giggled again as they left. "What was that about?" Will asked sullenly.  
  
"Oh, they think I'm going to yell at you." "Are you?"  
  
"Get back in the car for a minute," Jack said as he opened the door. Once seated, Jack pulled out his card case and set it on the seat.  
  
"Okay, Will, you were really ---"  
  
"A pain in the ass?"  
  
"You said it. It's your own fault, you know," Jack said with a smirk.  
  
"Ha, Ha. Very funny. I know. You're right. I should have never gone over to your house early to---"  
  
"Come on to me? No, you shouldn't have. You're paying the price now, aren't you? You need---"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. More self discipline. I should have enough smarts, forget self discipline, not to spend that long kissing you. God, your mouth...It's going to be my downfall," Will moaned.  
  
"Will.," Jack said warningly.  
  
"I know, I need to get control right now. But Jack, it's been long enough, don't you think? Aren't you ready?" Will asked.  
  
Jack raised one eyebrow and said calmly, "Don't whine. If you think the first time we are together is going to be a quickie while I know Syd and Francie are waiting for us, you're out of your mind." Will sighed and looked away. "You're right." He paused and then relaxing, said, "So, not a quickie, huh?"  
  
Meeting Jack's eyes, both men laughed. "Well." "Yeah, me too."  
  
"Let's go, Tippin, or Francie will probably think we are doing it in the SUV. She keeps giving me these looks like she knows." He stopped at the look on Will's face. "I was right all along - you've had conversations with her about this, haven't you?" At Will's sheepish look, Jack gritted out, "I'm going to kill you both. How can I look her in the face? Oh, God, she probably does think we were making out in here." As the men climbed out, Will quipped, "Well, there is room. That car is so huge, you could hide several bodies in there." Jack started to speak and Will held up his hand. "Forget it. I don't want to know. Really."  
  
"Are you having a good time, Dad?" Syd asked later. Jack smiled. "Sure, who's next?" "Vanessa Williams. You'll like her, she is a great technical singer."  
  
"Didn't she sing that song when you and Francie were younger - the rhyming one with weather in June?"  
  
Syd laughed, "Yeah, that's the one. Good memory. But I guess Francie and I played it a million times, didn't we?"  
  
When Ms.Williams began to sing, Jack remembered the artist as well as the song. "Sometimes the snow comes down in June, sometimes the sun goes round the moon." He leaned over and whispered, "This sounds like a Rambaldi prediction to me," and Syd giggled. "Sometimes the passion in your eyes, All at once a big surprise..It's not the way I hoped, or how I planned, but somehow." and the audience was entranced by the spell the talented singer wove. He sat there reflecting that the song seemed to fit his life right now. This thing with Will, definitely not what he'd ever planned. It was so unlike what he had ever imagined, he could have believed that the sun would go around the moon or snow fall in June. And then he laughed at himself, this was bordering on maudlin, for crying out loud. He needed to make a visit to the target range or something.  
  
With a grin, Will said, "Hey, Jack, the next artist is hip hop. Why don't you go and get us all drinks?"  
  
"Sure. Happily. Gladly. No problem," Jack said as he got up. Walking away, automatically scanning the audience, he noted the press photographers. One seemed to be taking an ordinate amount of audience reaction shots, he mused. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his arm. Looking down he saw Francie, she was panting slightly in her attempts to catch him. He looked away quickly. He still couldn't believe she and Will had conversations about his relationship with another man. For the love of God, didn't anyone have any sense of privacy any more? And she was his daughter's best friend. Blech.  
  
"Mr. Bristow, don't be embarrassed with me. I can tell you know Will and I talked about whether or not you could be in a relationship with another man." Jack actually gasped. He began muttering under his breath, but Francie ignored him and continued, "I told Will not to let you know that we had talked, because I knew you'd hate it."  
  
"But it's okay to do it as long as I don't know?" he said, thinking that was quite hypocritical of him, but hey, she'd never know. Francie gave an anxious smile as she said, "Well, you got me. But really, it's okay. Friends talk about each other." Jack grimaced.  
  
As they walked up to the drink kiosk, Jack said urgently, "Francie, first of all, it's imperative that you never talk about me with anyone outside us. My job, it's extremely cutthroat, very competitive. There can be no gossip about my personal life that filters back to work. My enemies would not attack me so much as Will - they'd find a way to hurt his career, probably, to get to me. Do you understand? Not even your parents?"  
  
"Geez, Jack, are you sure you and Syd don't work at the same place? Job Hazards R Us? I wish you both would quit."  
  
"Believe me, my goal is early retirement, the earlier the better." "Good." He handed her two drinks, carrying two himself and they began to return to their seats, Jack wincing at the noise that passed for music. Francie smiled at his expression and continued, "But I'm not done yet. I knew this relationship would be somewhat difficult, that you'd have to make an adjustment in your thinking, your view of yourself."  
  
"Can we stop now?"  
  
"But I also know you'll do the right thing."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I've known you for more than twenty years. Although I didn't know you well before and I will never understand why you and Syd were estranged for so long, I have watched you try to reestablish a relationship with her, even when she was being a real pip about it." Francie watched Jack's lips curve upward and relaxed slightly. Will was right, if you could amuse Jack."I know you may hem and haw and hide behind formality, but you'll do the right thing."  
  
"And the right thing would be, what?"  
  
"You know what it is. You can never go wrong following your heart."  
  
If she only knew, Jack thought. Following his heart -- that's what he had done with Irina and look where that had led him. But then again, it did lead him to Sydney. Maybe Francie was right, a little bit, anyway.  
  
"Even when it's the most inexplicable, surprising," Jack murmured to himself.  
  
"Even then," Francie whispered.  
  
"Francie, this is the last time, I hope we'll ever have this conversation, but do you know, has Syd said anything?"  
  
"Nah, she's clueless. A little bit jealous of the time you spend with Will..."  
  
"Ah, that's what the invitations lately have been about?"  
  
"Well, that and I do think she does want to have a relationship with you. Do you not want her to know?"  
  
"Not right now. I have enough to deal with on my own. Although, well, she'll have to know sooner or later. Maybe just let her figure it out on her own, when she's ready."  
  
"I think that's a good idea."  
  
"Let's head back. And really, I NEVER want to have a conversation like this again. I'd even rather talk about interior decoration," Jack ended with a small smile.  
  
"Ooh, you mean it then!" Francie laughed, "Although I do love how the red you suggested for my restaurant turned out. Maybe that can be your new career when you quit your stupid job. Hey - maybe you and Syd could both quit and go into interior dec together!" she finished in a peel of laughter.  
  
Chapter 17: "My good intentions are completely lethal." (Margaret Atwood)  
  
Jack and Arvin were returning via limo from a meeting in downtown LA. A generally mind-numbing meeting about shipping plans, except for the fact that the cargo was millions of dollars in illegal drugs and underage prostitutes. It was difficult to eat one's rubber chicken and green beans when the lunch conversation was about how long the brothel managers could portray a girl as a "virgin" before she was worn out. Actually, he was spending most of the time concentrating on not vomiting and how to ensure that the ship was intercepted. And now, Arvin was babbling about what? Jack's mental health? Give me strength, he pleaded with a look upwards.  
  
"I'm glad you seem to be relaxing, Jack, after all these years when you've been somewhat.uptight, I believe the correct word is. And I truly don't think there's anything.inappropriate between you and Mr. Tippin. After all, I've known you for more than thirty years. I think I know you well enough to know that type of relationship is more than unlikely. "  
  
What in the world? Why was Arvin so focused on this relationship he saw between Will and himself? They had given nothing away, had done nothing inappropriate, so what bug did Arvin have in his brain? Ah yes, he was projecting. Hmmm. How to use that? "Inappropriate? We are both adults."  
  
"You know what I mean, Jack. I told the risk management team that the likelihood of you becoming involved with another man was as likely as.snow in LA in June. I am saying this with the best of intentions, as I am sure you know."  
  
Jack met Sloane's eyes, calmly. Coolly, he said, "I know all about your intentions, Arvin."  
  
Chapter 18: "Creating a new theory is not like destroying an old barn and erecting a skyscraper. It's rather like climbing a mountain, gaining new and wider vistas, discovering unexpected connections between our starting point and [and our destination]." (Albert Einstein)  
  
Jack opened his laptop. Waiting for his new email messages to load, he rested his elbows on his desk. This was taking forever, he thought as steepling his fingers, he looked around his study. What a mess, he noted absently when he saw the pile of books in the corner. Most of them loans from Will's own collection or books Will had given him. Jack had never been much of a reader, well, not of those types of books. Sure, he'd read lots of nonfiction for the information and the occasional Clancy or other spy thriller for laughs. But he'd had his fill of books when he was in solitary. In the beginning, they had given him only the Bible. The last thing he'd wanted to read was the Bible, stories about losing one's way and how to find it, trusting in God. Trust? Trust had gotten him here --- to a 10' by 10' cell, he'd thought at the time. He'd asked so often for something, anything else, that they'd finally given him the collected works of Shakespeare to start. Initially, he thought it was a great choice, because hey - comedy and tragedy, war and battles, family dynamics, love (well, he didn't read the love stories for a long time) - it was all there. He'd read them over and over, he had the time, after all. Then one day, the prison librarian (and there's a great job, he always thought sarcastically, your patrons have no choice but to read what you suggest), casually mentioned that the Bible and Shakespeare and most stories were, in fact, the same story, just told differently - human drama, the drama of our journey toward.. "Toward what?" Jack had asked when the librarian stopped speaking. "What do you think?" had been the answer. Like he'd wanted more questions. He'd asked for different books.  
  
It had taken him twenty years, but he knew the answer to the question now. The journey, his anyway, had been toward redemption, salvation, finding his self, his soul, before he had lost it completely playing the game. His glance went to a photo of Sydney before it went back toward the stack of books. Will always just dumped new ones onto the pile. He really needed to pick them up, put the seemingly-random books into order, into categories. Napoleon should not be next to a book of sports quotations. But, he knew he kept them there like that because just seeing the disorder reminded him of Will and made him smile involuntarily.  
  
There was a decided lack of control in being with Will. He remembered when he realized he had first lost control of the situation, even before the state of disorder he was in now. It was about a few weeks before Francie and Syd asked him to do that intervention, which he now thought of as Francie's little intervention into their love life, although he'd never tell her THAT. He and Will had been sitting on the sofa and Will had gotten up to get more food, as always, since the guy never stopped eating. Unconsciously, he knew now, Will had patted, almost caressed, Jack's thigh with his hand as he arose from the cushions. Jack had just stared at his leg, realizing that those feelings he had been repressing about Will.with that touch from Will, his reaction to it, well, he knew he had just lost control of his ability to ignore them. He had reached out and rubbed his leg where Will had touched him and thought, "I am losing it." Now he knew he had actually gained so much, the connection between..  
  
Beep. Finally here was the email he had been waiting for from London. Clicking it open, he smiled at the message. Ah, information. He loved email, you could keep in touch with friends, colleagues, from all around the world without traveling. And, even better, if you know what you're doing, you can hack into other people's business. Yes, he loved email. Sending a quick reply, he closed the laptop.  
  
Looking at the corner, he walked over to the pile and randomly picked one up, a book by Thomas Merton. For the first time he noted the inscription from Will to him, "To Jack: 'Does the road wind uphill all the way? / Yes to the very end / Will the day's journey take the whole long day? / From morn to night, my friend / by Christina Rosetti/ Will." He was struck by the fact, that although he had never articulated to Will that he felt like he was looking for something, moving. somehow Will had known.And how had Will known he would respond to his first efforts to change their relationship, as friends and now.as lovers? Why Will, of all people, why did Will see into him? Why did he know he could trust Will? But could he trust his own judgment, his own instincts? Looking at the book in his hand, he realized that all relationships were, in fact, a leap of faith. Some leaps could kill you and some leaps could save you. If one were calculating the odds. He put the book down as he thought with a smile, You can't change the past, only the future. Picking up the phone, he dialed Will, "So, tonight? Do you want to open that bottle of merlot?"  
  
Chapter 19: "Love is the answer, but while you're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty interesting questions." (Woody Allen) (Note: the original version of this chapter was NC-17, and is on the version I will archive at the Cover Me site).  
  
Will's cell phone beeped. Francie asked, "Will, is Syd there?"  
  
"Yes," he gritted out.  
  
"I'll come over and try and get rid of her."  
  
"That would be great. Thank you."  
  
Sitting there in the pub, Will wondered how Syd was such a super spy if she could not feel the vibes emanating from the two men. He knew Jack was making a supreme effort to control himself in front of his daughter, but was he the only one to feel the waves of sexual heat rolling off Jack? Every second seemed like an hour, every accidental brush of Jack's pant leg or bare arm against Will seemed like it was screaming aloud to everyone in a 200 mile radius what the two men wanted. He was trying to avoid looking a Jack, he looked so.He could only imagine what Francie was thinking.  
  
Thank God, she had come to rescue them. Jack and he had just pulled wine glasses out of the cabinet when Syd had knocked at the door. Jack had gritted out, "Unbelievable timing, unbelievable," while Syd had warbled on about wanting to spend time with the two of them. Luckily she had mentioned leaving Francie a note. Even more fortuitously, Will had excitedly called Francie to tell her the merlot was finally being opened after talking with Jack earlier. Jack had been really annoyed when Will had told him, "Can you NOT be discreet, Tippin?" he had growled. He was so irritated with Sydney's arrival, that for once it had been up to Will to come up with an excuse. He told her that they had plans, had just stopped in for a quick drink, but since she was here, why not go to this place a few blocks over? Anything to get her out of the apartment; Will was afraid if she plunked herself down, they'd never get rid of her. Jack had given him a dirty look, but once Syd had bopped down the hall to use the restroom, Will explained that it would be easier for Francie to get rid of her if they were out, which meant he had to explain why Francie would know they wanted Syd out of their hair. Jack had been so ticked. But once Francie had arrived he whispered to Will, "Okay, telling your friends can sometimes come in handy. You win this time. Although, once again, I don't think I can look Francie in the face."  
  
Remembering, Will glanced over at Jack, seeing a vein in his jaw pulse. Finally, seeing the skin grow tighter and tighter across Jack's cheekbones, he looked down and saw that they had identical bulges in their pants. He could stand it no longer and said, "Syd, Francie, I'm sorry, but Jack and I really did have other plans. We need to go now. We'll follow you out to your cars if you want to leave too." He stood up, holding his jacket in front of him and pulled Jack up by the elbow, noting that he too held his leather jacket in front of him. He caught Francie's eye and she said, "That's fine. We'll just hang out here for a while. Have a good night."  
  
Syd looked like she was about to say something, but Francie just began talking over her, pointing out some "gorgeous" guy at the bar who had, she said, been staring at Syd. Will rolled his eyes at Jack and whispered, "Let me guess, if I were to look over there, I'd see Vaughn, wouldn't I?" Jack glanced back casually and said, "If I were capable of laughing right now, I think I'd actually be in hysterics. What is this, a CIA reunion? Let's go, already, before we get caught up in that ridiculous soap opera."  
  
Aside from the last time Will had hustled a Bristow out of the bar-that time with Syd to get her away from the Vaughn and Alice debacle - he had never been in such a hurry to leave anywhere. Well, maybe Sark's car in Taipei, he thought with an inner smile, realizing that somewhere along the way he must be truly healing if he could find humor in the memory.  
  
Putting on their jackets, the two men walked down the street to Jack's car. Unlocking the doors, the men got in and looked at each other. Without a word being said, they reached for each other and their mouths fused. But within seconds, Will broke apart. "Wait, can't we be seen?"  
  
"No, these windows are truly opaque and I parked as far away from a street light as I could."  
  
"I should have known you wouldn't just act on impulse."  
  
"You know I can't, for your sake, for your safety. I wish-"  
  
"I know, Jack, I was just kidding."  
  
"Oh. I guess I'm not in the mood at the moment for kidding."  
  
"Actually, me either. Let's go."  
  
"Let's go to your place, it's closer," Jack said quietly as he started the engine. Then both men jumped when there came a loud tapping on the passenger window. Will actually started to let out that idiotic scream of his, but stopped when he saw Jack begin to roll his eyes. "No nerves of steel for you, Tippin." But then smiled to soften the words, after all he had jumped too.  
  
They looked over and saw Sydney tapping on the window. "You know, Jack, I love Syd, but right about now."  
  
"Tell me about it." Rolling down the window, both men said simultaneously, "What?!"  
  
"Well, I was just wondering what you thought I should do about-"  
  
"For God's sake, Syd," Will interrupted, "if this is about Vaughn being at the bar."  
  
Jack continued, "Sydney, honey, just do whatever feels right. There's no sign of Internal Security anywhere, I checked myself. So, if what feels right means finding a motel, use your training and find a way to do it without getting caught. Or use that warehouse you meet in all the time. If the chain links do it for the two of you, fine. Or just sit there all night and exchange meaningful glances. You're a big girl. Will and I have done enough for you. Figure. It. Out. Good night." And Jack hit the automatic window mechanism and the two men watched her shocked face disappear.  
  
As they watched her walk back toward the pub, Will began to laugh, "'If the chain links do it for you'? "Or just sit there and exchange meaningful glances'? That was priceless. I cannot believe you said that."  
  
"Actually, neither can I. I'm gonna pay for that, you know it." Jack put his hand on Will's thigh and it stopped Will's thought process for a second. "Oh yeah, you'll be getting the cold shoulder for a while on that one."  
  
"Are you going to make it worth the sacrifice?" Jack asked as he massaged the long muscle in Will's upper thigh.  
  
"I do believe so, Jack, if we can EVER get back to my place."  
  
As Syd walked back into the bar, Francie heaved a sigh of relief. Not only did she know that Will was ready to kill Syd for interrupting what appeared to have been an important evening, she had to deal with Syd's stupidity about the couple. And now Syd was running away from the heated looks this absolutely incredible man had been sending her. What was wrong with that chick? When Syd sat back down, she asked her that very question. "Well, don't you think there's something odd going on with my dad and Will? They were giving off weird vibes all night, weren't they?"  
  
"Syd, I've been trying to tell you for a while---"  
  
"And now there's that guy I told you about from work - Michael - at the bar."  
  
"Ohmigod, that's your Michael?"  
  
"Well, I don't know if he's mine or not."  
  
"Honey, when a man looks at a woman like that, he's yours. And let me tell you, if a man that hot were mine, I wouldn't be sitting over here talking to you. Make a move. I've got my own car. I'm outta here." As Francie walked away toward the entrance, she muttered, "God save me from the Bristows' love lives. I need one of my own, thank you."  
  
As Will and Jack walked into his apartment building, Will noted Jack's instinctive scan of the exterior and interior. He would have to get more accustomed to doing that himself; he realized there was no option. He would have to wise up and become more self-sufficient to be with Jack or stand the risk of having the older man pull away in fear for his, Will's, safety. But as the elevator pulled to a halt on his floor, he wasn't really thinking of anything but how quickly they could get into his apartment. Once again, so quickly, the tension had risen so fast, so hard, between them that neither man could even look at the other. Ever since Jack had returned from Paris, they had held themselves to what he would have termed 'making out' in his teenage years. What do you call it when you're an adult? Torture, maybe?. Although maybe not. He had actually been tortured and it was a LOT less enjoyable than what Jack did to him, after all. Stop it, Tippin, Will scolded himself mentally, don't think about Jack's mouth and his hands.think about something else. He just had to control himself until they got in. Maybe multiplication tables...  
  
Will stuck his key into the lock and shoved the door open, motioning Jack in first. Jack turned on a small light and then immediately went over to the light fixture with the bug killer in it to check on it. Following Jack through the door, Will turned back to lock it. Before he was barely done, Jack had pushed him against it, holding him in place with his body and his two hands on either side of Will's shoulders. Will breathed in the scent of Jack's body and cologne and gave a small shudder. Finally. He felt Jack still at the motion and then shuddered again when Jack bit softly at the curve of his shoulder and again when he laved the bite with his tongue. He tipped his head to allow Jack whatever he wanted. What Jack wanted was to drive him crazy, he realized, as the older man proceeded to lick and lightly suck the exposed flesh. Moaning, he pushed himself back into Jack's hard body and feeling the ridge of Jack's cock against his buttocks, rubbed himself back into it, surprising a deep moan from the older man. Taking advantage of his sudden slackening of attention, Will whirled around and put both hands behind Jack's neck and pulled his face over for the kiss he had been dying to give him for hours, if not days, if not weeks. Pouring his heart, his soul, his need into the kiss, Will's heart began to pound as he felt Jack's response. Finally, finally, Jack was letting go, something he had not done yet, letting Will feel the truth. It felt like a gift. He pulled back and whispered, "I love you too," and then covered Jack's mouth again.  
  
Will gladly allowed Jack to take over the kiss, reangling their mouths over and over, delving deeper, then pulling back to bite lightly at Will's lower lip then laving it with his tongue, then kissing again, over and over, until both men were moaning. Will pulled back to begin undressing Jack. Again, the tension between the two of them escalated as they shoved off clothes. To Will's surprise, Jack, who was so incredibly picky about his wardrobe, didn't even notice that he'd dropped that beautiful black leather jacket on the floor. Stopping momentarily, Will picked up Jack's clothes and hung them over a chair.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I know you'll be mad in the morning if your clothes are a mess, Jack, don't deny it." They exchanged a smile.  
  
"Well, while you're over there, reach into my pants pocket and get out-" Will pulled out a tube of lubricant and raised his eyebrows. "Yes, that's it." "How did you know that--? Don't tell me, let me guess, you did your research." "Come over here."  
  
Will walked back over to where Jack stood in front of the wall and handed him the tube. Jack pushed Will's shoulders back against the wall. Will took a deep breath as he waited for Jack to make a move. Slowly, Jack uncapped the tube and squeezed out a generous dollop onto his left hand. He capped the tube and tossed it to the ground and sank to his knees in front of Will.  
  
Will let out the breath he had been holding as Jack used his right hand to spread Will's legs further apart. "There, stand like that." Will did as Jack requested, or was it demanded? Who cared? As the night wore on, each made demands and requests of their own, until finally they lay quietly on the bed in Will's bedroom.  
  
"I can't believe your mouth, Jack, the things you do with it and the things you say with it."  
  
"Me? I don't think I've ever been so hard in my life as when you were talking there at the end. If I could have uttered a coherent sentence, it would have been thanks for being with a writer who can speak like that when I could barely."  
  
"Well, so much for your vaunted self discipline, Jack."  
  
"Yes, I think you've found a way to break my discipline, Will."  
  
"Not completely, I know, but close. And see, wasn't that a good thing?"  
  
"Well, in this case, anyway."  
  
"We never did drink your merlot, did we? Do you want some now?"  
  
"That would involve moving. Forget it. I just want to lie here for a while," Jack said as he rubbed his thigh against Will's. "We can drink it some other time, some other special occasion. This night has been memorable enough."  
  
Chapter 20: Good judgment comes from experience, and experience, well, that comes from poor judgment. (Cousin Woodman)  
  
"Francie said you and my dad had a fight?" Syd asked sympathetically as they microwaved popcorn.  
  
"She told you?" Will asked in surprise.  
  
"Well, she heard my dad start to yell at me earlier today. He didn't get a chance to finish because he got beeped, so I don't know what I did. It reminded her, I guess, that you'd had an argument with him, too. Maybe he's just cranky today."  
  
"I think it's all my fault, including the fact that he's mad at you. I mentioned something you told me about work."  
  
"Great, Will. Thanks. He's gonna kill me. Let me give you some advice on handling my dad when he's really ticked off. If you're going to try to be friends with him, you need to know that my dad either yells or he totally withdraws. Withdrawing is not good. Yelling is not fun, but at least it's not-"  
  
"Hot is better than cold? Is that what you're saying?"  
  
"Yeah. It's okay if he yells, then you can yell back and have a good fight. But when he gets all quiet - that means he's beyond mad and it's a lot of work to get through to him."  
  
"So provoke him?" "If need be." "Great, sounds like tons of fun." "Yup." "  
  
Is the popcorn done?" "Honestly, Will." Syd's phone rang a few minutes later. "My dad is on his way over."  
  
"Is that good news or bad?"  
  
"Well, at least he's not withdrawing, but he said he wants to talk to us both."  
  
"That can't be good."  
  
When Jack came in, Syd was surprised to see that his tie was pulled loose from his collar. How often did that happen? Like, never. Uh-oh. Without preamble, Jack started in. "Syd, it's become clear to me that you are talking to Will about your work. Can I ask - just what the HELL do you think you are doing? It's so. where do I start? It's unprofessional to be telling someone without the appropriate security clearance about your missions and intel such as Echelon. That information is always on a need to know basis. Do you think Vaughn goes to the CIA gym and starts up conversations saying, 'Hey, guess what I've been working on this week?' DO YOU?"  
  
"Hey, Dad, you're always saying he sticks too closely to procedure!"  
  
"There's a difference between slavish adherence to rules for no good reason and acting like a stupid fool. Into which category do you fall with this behavior?" Pausing for a breath, he continued ranting, "And God knows, Tippin doesn't need much information or encouragement to go off the deep end. You endanger him everytime you open your damn mouth. Do you think I want to live through another Taipei?"  
  
"Dad-" "I'm not done. Do you think I'm still alive after all these years as a double because I tell my friends the details of my work?"  
  
"Do you have any friends, Dad? Do you?" "Low blow, Syd," Will muttered under his breath, wisely having kept silent up to now. Jack reared back and ran his left hand through his hair, another sign of deep distress, Will thought. Jack was always nagging him about that habit, telling him it showed a lack of self discipline. Well, he wasn't going to bring that up right now. Keeping quiet seemed like a really good idea.  
  
Jack paused, before saying quietly, "I thought we were becoming friends." Syd looked away. He continued, "And sometimes friends.and family have to tell you when you are acting foolishly. Isn't that what you did to me in Kashmir?" When she made no reply, he pressed, "Isn't it?" "  
  
Yes," she admitted finally. "It's just---"  
  
"I know, Will knows about your double life now and it probably feels great to have someone to talk to about it, you don't feel so isolated. But it's dangerous for anyone to know too much. I never want to see him again the way he did when .Don't you realize that Sloane considers that Will's life is on notice, that if he inadvertently makes one wrong step..." Jack trailed off and glanced away. Then looking back, he continued, "Will, for example, that young woman at your Narcotics Anonymous meetings who wanted you to write about SD6 and check out her conspiracy website? She was Internal Security for SD6. If you hadn't answered properly, you wouldn't be sitting here with that tub of popcorn right now."  
  
"Oh my God," Syd moaned.  
  
"Yes, only God would have been able to save him then. She would have killed him before he even had a chance to get home." Silence fell as everyone digested the news.  
  
Will, naturally, Jack thought, was the one to break the quiet. "If I might make one small suggestion? It seems to me that you both need an outlet for your work and call me stupid, but the obvious outlet is each other. Why don't you talk to each other? I accept that Syd shouldn't be talking to me. But Jack if you'll stop worrying so much about protecting Sydney by keeping information from her and Syd, if you'll start seeing your father as a valuable resource personally and professionally. well, I think you'd probably both be better adjusted." He waited and then said, "I think I'll go wait in Jack's car for my turn in the crosshairs. Talk amongst yourselves." Jack threw him the car keys.  
  
The front door slammed. Jack said sullenly, "Don't you just hate it-"  
  
"When Will is right?" Syd finished, equally sullenly. They both looked up and caught each other's eyes and started to laugh.  
  
"It's a sad day," Syd began and her father concluded, "When Tippin tells us how to behave properly."  
  
Syd responded, "I hate to admit it, but he has a point and Dad, so do you. I was wrong. I was just so happy to have someone to talk to, I wasn't thinking. There's no excuse." Jack slowly, cautiously reached out his hand toward Sydney and to his delight, she grasped it for a moment. Standing side by side without looking at each other, Syd started, "So, I think maybe he's right and we should be each other's own best resource."  
  
"You can always talk to Vaughn or Weiss, too."  
  
"So could you, Dad." "Humph."  
  
"No, really. Make me a promise? That if you need to talk to someone, for ideas or whatever, and I'm not available, that you'll call one of them? They'd be thrilled and honestly, you have so much information, so much experience, look upon it as another way to train them up right," she concluded with an impish smile.  
  
"Well, that's a good spin on it, Syd," Jack said.  
  
"I try. So why don't you go out and read him the riot act before he worries himself to death?"  
  
"Hmm, I suppose I've tortured him long enough." Syd watched him walk away and then muttered, "Great, he never made the promise."  
  
Jack walked out to the car and tapped on the window for Will to unlock the door. At least he had learned enough to keep the door locked, Jack reflected. He got in the driver's side and rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment. Will reached out a tentative hand and placed his fingers on the back of Jack's neck for just a moment. "Jack, I-" "Not a word, Tippin, not right now, not right here," Jack said as he lifted his head and shifted the car into drive. Jack drove to a pier and the two got out. "This is where Syd and I had an argument about you and if, how we were going to try and save you. She accused me then of having no friends and not knowing how scared she felt for you," Jack said staring out at the water. Will objected, "You and I know that Syd was wrong, is wrong. You care deeply about people. I think she'll come to see that, if you let her and if she lets you." Jack said nothing.  
  
After a long while, Will said, "So, are you going to yell at me or what?"  
  
When Jack's only response was to give a slight upward quirk of the corners of his mouth, Will sighed. "I've blown it haven't I?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Jack asked.  
  
"Here I know you are concerned about.us and whether it's a good idea. It's been going well now for two months and I go and do something so stupid as to plan to bring classified documents out of work to show you."  
  
"And that would blow it, why?"  
  
"Because that was so stupid and-"  
  
"Will, it was just inexperienced and unprofessional. You can learn, if you choose to do so. As I said to Syd, you two have to learn when to use the rule book and when not to. In this case, copying the documents would have endangered your job. You do like having health and dental insurance, don't you?" he quipped. Will nodded. "In addition, you didn't need to remove the documents. Play smart. Memorize the information. Got that?" Another nod. "Thirdly, you don't need to copy the photos to prove to me that you were right, that it was Sark in those photos at Alliance headquarters. I'll believe you."  
  
Will's head jerked around, "You do? Why?"  
  
"You excel at synthesis or syncretic thought. In other words, you are good at putting two and two together. You are a good, solid investigator, if you have a hunch, a reason to believe that an idea is worth pursuing, you are probably right. At least that's what I wrote in my recommendation for you, so don't prove me wrong," Jack ended wryly.  
  
"Seriously?" You gave me a recommendation? Will asked.  
  
"For desk work, Tippin, desk work," Jack said shaking his head.  
  
"Do you know that Vaughn called it being 'desk-trained'?" Will asked with a grin.  
  
"'Desk-trained'? That makes it sound like you know when to use the litter box," Jack laughed. "That's what I thought, too."  
  
The two men laughed together for a moment before Jack sobered and continued, "Seriously, though, Will, there is another reason why I would believe you when you say you could identify Sark through his hands alone. Well, two. First, it's extremely difficult to alter someone's hands through plastic surgery and most people making identity switches would never even think of doing it. Secondly, after the amount of time you spent with that animal, what his hands did to you in the light, you would remember them. The mind tends to focus on the instruments of pain or pleasure and burn it into our memories to teach us lessons." Jack looked at Will carefully, but the younger met his gaze calmly.  
  
"Did you know," Jack said conversationally, "That many years ago, a case was brought to the Supreme Court by a man who had been convicted of rape based upon the account of his victim. He alleged that she had only seen his face for 30 seconds and how could she make a positive id based upon 30 seconds of contact? The conviction was upheld. One of the justices wrote that those 30 seconds were probably the longest of that woman's life, that they seemed more like 30 hours. And you were in his custody for a lot longer than 30 seconds." Will looked down.  
  
Jack stated firmly, "Will, I believe you. I'm glad you told me. I wish your boss believed you too, that would make this much easier."  
  
"Make what easier?"  
  
"Moving forward on this investigation." Will looked at Jack in shock, "You mean you think I am right - that this is worth investigating?"  
  
"Of course. In this particular instance. Why in the world is Sark working at Alliance headquarters? I want to know. Now before you go off thinking that you are -"  
  
"Super spy?"  
  
Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Here are the rules. You never take the documents on any topic, including any you think are SD6-related, out of the office. You don't talk about it with Sydney. Period. Or Vaughn or anyone else. That's my responsibility. You tell your boss your suspicions, present your analysis to her as requested and/or required. Always, always do that, never hold anything back."  
  
"Why?" "Because that's what CYA is - cover your ass, Tippin. CYA in the CIA - can you remember that? Covering your ass may be crucial to your job security and personal safety. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Do I have your promise?" "Yes."  
  
Jack heaved a sigh and looked out over the water again. "Tippin, I think most people would think that you and I have an unequal relationship. That I call the shots."  
  
"You do."  
  
"Really? It doesn't feel that way to me sometimes. Never has. How is it you ended up investigating SD6 even after I had you abducted and smacked you around a little?"  
  
"Is that what you call a little?" Will joked and then froze at the look on Jack's face. "Wait a minute - you still feel guilty about that, don't you? Forget about it. You were just trying to make me see sense for my own good. I'd already proven I don't listen well. Ah-that's what you're talking about, isn't it?"  
  
"The fact that you are so stubborn, that you have a tendency to go off on your investigations, on your ideas and no one could stop you?" "Even you? Is that what you're thinking?"  
  
"Yes, that's one last reason why I am taking your intel. I am hoping that by doing so-"  
  
"You can control it better than last time? And I think our relationship is different now. For one thing, I know you and trust you implicitly and if you tell me something.."  
  
"Oh. Good. I hope that by treating you like a, and I hesitate to say this," he smiled, "more of a partner, we will all come out of this better than we did out of Taipei. No, actually, Will, I know you are a more careful, cautious person after Taipei. I know that experience changed you somewhat or a lot, actually. Or else--"  
  
"Or else, you wouldn't have considered a relationship between us, would you?"  
  
"Truthfully, no. You're enthusiastic, persistent, loyal to a fault, curious - all good, no great qualities. But in moderation. You need more focus sometimes."  
  
"Thanks, Jack, you're doing wonders for my ego."  
  
Jack turned and began walking back to the car. "I believe you've told me more than a few hard truths in your turn, too."  
  
"Is this what you were talking about with Syd - that friends and family tell each other when they are acting foolishly?" The men opened the doors and sat down. "Yes, I guess it is." They stared out the window at the water.  
  
"Thank you," each said. They caught each other's eye and chuckled. "We do that a lot, don't we?" asked Will. "And let me guess, that bothers you, Jack?"  
  
"Clearly, you are getting to know me too well. Why were you saying thank you?"  
  
"For believing in me professionally and personally too. And you?"  
  
"For not being afraid of my anger."  
  
"I know where it comes from -- your protectiveness." "That again." "Always."  
  
"Let's go, this pier is not my favorite place." "Well, I'll always remember it fondly. You gave me a recommendation? What a hoot." 


	3. Chapters 21 thru 34, the plot thickens

Chapter 21: "False face must hide what the false heart doth know." (Shakespeare, Macbeth)  
  
Will and Jack were at Will's apartment, scavenging through the cabinets for something to eat. "I think we're actually going to have to break down and go grocery shopping," Jack stated finally. "Surely not!" Will laughed. "We are two grown men, we shouldn't have to stoop to shopping. There's always takeout. The menus are-" "Yeah, I know in the cabinet where other people might actually keep, oh I don't know, food." After arguing for a while about whose turn it was to pick the food choices, Will finally made the phone call. An hour later, over sushi, which Will loved but Jack merely tolerated ("I don't understand the appeal of eating raw meat," Jack had complained once, but never again when Will had started to "giggle like a girl" Jack said), the conversation moved on to the regular discussion about weekend entertainment.  
  
"So, I bought tickets to 'Much Ado About Nothing,'" Jack commented.  
  
"Oh, no, no, no. Not another Shakespearean play. No. Not again. Not for a while anyway. You dragged me to that Japanese film last week, that was my last compromise for a while."  
  
"What are you complaining about? You got three good hours of sleep out of it," Jack groused. "Besides, Much Ado is a comedy. You like those."  
  
"Oh, I forgot that play was a comedy. When is it?" "Two weeks from tonight. Check your planner." Will got up. "Sorry, I have to work late almost every night that week. It's a special issue of the magazine."  
  
"Is that true, or are you just trying to get out of it?"  
  
"No! I do like those comedies. Really. Don't look at me like that. Who are you going to ask?"  
  
"Well, to tell you the truth, I already asked Syd," he smiled at Will who pretended to be offended, "But she's hunkered down with the dissertation. So, actually, I think I'll ask Arvin. We used to go to plays together." "Before." "Before."  
  
"Do you think he might be jealous of your time? The time you spend with me?"  
  
"No, why would he? And jealous - I don't know, do men get jealous of their friends? What was that quotation from the other day?"  
  
""Jealousy is a sign of neurotic instability?'" "Yeah, that one."  
  
Arvin handed Jack a drink from the bar during intermission. "Thanks for asking me to the play, Jack. It's been a while since we've done something like this."  
  
"Yes. Perhaps not since Emily's cancer was in remission."  
  
"I'm glad you asked me. I've been a little lonely. It's too bad you've been so busy lately with other things."  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow and said, "Yes, I've been doing a lot of reading lately." He raised his glass and avoided Arvin's eyes.  
  
Sloane filled in the silence with, "It's too bad that Syd couldn't make it. After all, she's an English major. How's that dissertation going?"  
  
"Slowly. She doesn't have the concentrated time spans one really needs to write that kind of work."  
  
"True, but I don't know why she keeps on with it."  
  
"You know she hopes to retire some day and teach."  
  
"Like her mother?" "Yes."  
  
"Does that bother you - that even knowing what Irina was, that Sydney is still trying to emulate her, rather than you?" Good jab, Arvin, Jack thought, as he schooled his face into a scowl. "Sorry, Jack, didn't mean to hit a sore spot," Arvin said with a pat on Jack's back. Maybe, Jack thought, he and Syd could go fifty-fifty on industrial strength cleaners to be used solely for scrubbing away the stench of a Sloane touch. He suppressed the urge to shudder when Sloane touched him on the hand and said, "Well, finish up. I think the bell is going to ring in a minute."  
  
Chapter 22: "Ninety percent of the game is half mental." (Yogi Berra)  
  
The m.o. was always the same, Will mused, as he and Jack entered the apartment. For 4 months now, whenever they entered Jack would head over to the bugkiller and check it. He still remembered the time Jack had raised his eyebrows, tossed out his card case and said, "Idiots. Black and gray are not the same color."  
  
Tonight was the night for "the" big discussion. They had each been dancing around it verbally for a while, but the timing was right. Jack flung himself down on the sofa and grumpily said, "Okay, Tippin, spit it out already." Avoiding an immediate answer, Will went over to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. Tossing one toward Jack, he opened his and took a long drink. "Tippin--"  
  
"Okay, okay. I was just composing my words in my head."  
  
"While I can always appreciate caution, you look a little green, so clearly waiting isn't helping the situation."  
  
"Okay, the truth is, it's time for me to leave this cruddy little apartment and move on. The question is, where should I be moving?"  
  
Jack commented casually, "Let's look at the paper. Where do you want to move?"  
  
"You - stop it!" Will exclaimed as he saw the slow smile creeping over Jack's face.  
  
"You know where I want to move. Is it going to happen or what?"  
  
"Well, you know how I like lists. Tell me all the reasons why I should have you move into my house."  
  
"List! Reasons!", Will exclaimed. But with a smile of his own, Will put down his bottle and leaned over Jack. "I can think of one good, no great reason," he murmured before capturing Jack's mouth with his own. When he released him, Jack said, "Mmm. Your version of a list works for me. When is your lease up? Or do you want me to pay it off for you?" "No! What am I, some ---?" "Boytoy?" Jack laughed, hard, as Will picked up and threw his bottle of water at him.  
  
Catching the bottle, Jack stopped laughing and said solemnly, "Changing the subject, I'd feel better anyway if you were safe in my house."  
  
"You mean that impregnable fortress you call a home?"  
  
"Very funny. It serves its purpose. But, really, Will, I worry about you here in this apartment. You know that was my major concern about us getting involved - that who I am, what I do, would put you at risk. Sydney can take care of herself, but you, you're just a baby when it comes to security."  
  
"Thanks a bunch," Will said derisively. "Will, I just meant-"  
  
"I know what you meant. You meant that you worry. You worry because you care. You're worried that my moving in is too obvious a statement. Can you live with that?"  
  
"You in my place means less worry. I'll come up with some story for the benefit of my colleagues. Hmm, I know - you can be my caretaker."  
  
"Like Kato Kaelin, the loser at OJ Simpson's? Thanks."  
  
"I thought you'd appreciate that. But, I guess the benefits of your moving in outweigh the risks."  
  
"I'll make sure they do," Will said firmly, but with a smile.  
  
Chapter 23: "Good humor is one of the best articles of dress one can wear in society." (William Makepeace Thackeray)  
  
Will's lease was up in a month. He conned Francie and a few guys from work to help him move one day. It didn't take long to move Will's possessions, mostly his clothes, computer and files into 'his' room. Jack's original bed was exchanged for Will's king. Later that night, after the guys had left, he, Francie and Jack sat around relaxing. Syd was away on local assignment that day and wouldn't be home until early in the morning. To their continual astonishment, she had asked no questions when Jack carefully told her that Will was moving in. She had looked quizzical, but said nothing. Jack had just sighed. He hadn't even gotten a chance to try out the caretaker story on her. Too bad.  
  
"So, Will, it didn't look like you had much in the way of clothes," Francie commented, thinking about the move. "That's probably a good thing; how much closet space is Jack giving you, anyway?"  
  
Will snorted, "Give up some of his precious closet space? Jack? You've got to be kidding. That guy has more clothes, and shoes, and ties than your average men's store. And the ties? A freakin' museum of ties, all color coordinated."  
  
"How else would the ties be organized?" Jack asked defensively.  
  
"C'mon, Francie, let me show you," Will said, pulling her up.  
  
While Jack followed behind them, he pushed Francie into the master bedroom and into the huge walk-in. "Oh. My. God." Francie gasped as she took in the closet. "You have two tuxedoes? How many Armani suits can one man have? Wow. Everything is arranged by formality and then by color. How obsessive compulsive is this? I'm sure Will's clothes are just in a heap on the bottom of the closet."  
  
"Well," Will said sheepishly, "That's another reason he wouldn't let me share his closet. Nothing can mar the pristine atmosphere of the museum."  
  
"Ha. Ha. Very funny," Jack snarked.  
  
Francie continued scanning the racks. "Wow, way too many white shirts, though, Jack. You look better in dark colors." Turning around at Will's poke, she gasped again, "I see what you mean, Will, it's like a tie display in a museum. These are beautiful and some are so different. When do you wear them? Where did you get all of these ties?"  
  
"Oh, they're from my travels. It's like a travelogue for me. Will knows all about them. I've bored him to tears with the stories. He can tell you or you two can just stay here and make fun of me. I'm going to go straighten out Will's closet in 'his' room. I won't go to sleep tonight with his clothes just in a heap. That really irritates me. And I bet his computer isn't even hooked up in there yet," he mumbled as he walked out, but both Francie and Will missed the little smile on his face as he went down the hall.  
  
The next day, Francie and Sydney were woken early by the ring of the telephone. Francie got to it first and to her sleepy, "Huh?" heard Will nearly screeching, "Do you know what he did?"  
  
"Hold on, Will, I'll put you on speaker so Syd can hear."  
  
"Do you know what he did when he was supposedly arranging my closet for me?" Will demanded. Both women looked at each other and then Syd gave an impish grin, "Let me guess. He destroyed some of your rattier clothes because he just couldn't have them in his house or have anyone see you dressed like that walking out of his house, also known as the museum of Jack Bristow's clothing?"  
  
"Oh," Will said somewhat deflated, "You know about the museum, huh?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, my dad's is just a touch obsessive about his clothes. So what did he throw out?"  
  
"My corduroys," Will said plaintively. Syd and Francie giggled. "Good!" both said. In the background, they could hear Jack protesting, "I offered to buy him new clothes!"  
  
"Go, Will, take him up on it," Francie urged. "Puh-leeze, let him buy you new clothes."  
  
Syd added, "Better yet, let him pick them out FOR you."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with the way I dress," he argued, "I was just going to buy new cords." Everyone laughed and Will responded, "C'mon."  
  
"C'mon, Will, honestly, the cords had to go. My dad did the world a public service," Syd said while Francie giggled.  
  
Jack said, "Who wants to go and help me browbeat him into wearing clothes, at least occasionally, that look like they were fashionable at some point in the last decade?"  
  
Francie groaned, "Oh, I'd love to, but I have to go to the restaurant. Syd?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. I have the whole day off. This should be fun."  
  
"Fun?" Will moaned. "Yeah, fun. The Bristows tag team Tippin into totally new togs," Syd laughed.  
  
"Alliteration. Glad to see that all that money for grad school is paying off, Syd," Jack commented dryly. "Should we pick you up in an hour and go spend my money? Maybe you'd like a new outfit too - for putting up with the inevitable whining from Will today?"  
  
"Sure, I'll take it."  
  
"Damn, I wish I could go," Francie said, "Fun torturing Will AND an outfit!"  
  
"Forget it, Francie," Jack said, "No outfits for you after the way you ridiculed my closet last night."  
  
"Jack, just buy yourself some new shirts that are not white. Dark colors, remember?" Francie demanded.  
  
Chapter 24: "Always mystify, mislead and surprise the enemy if possible." (Stonewall Jackson)  
  
Jack walked into Arvin Sloane's office, schooling his face into guileless unconcern, when he really wanted to laugh aloud. He loved these games. Tippin thought he was nuts. What was that line he'd read the other day? "Brinksmanship, the most popular game since Monopoly." As he sat in a chair, Arvin closed the door behind him. Walking in front of Jack, he perched himself on the edge of the desk. Looking down he crossed his arms and just stared at Jack, who wasn't paying him any attention. "Yes, Arvin, what is it?" Jack asked impatiently, while straightening the cuffs of his shirt. He wasn't sure about these French cuffs, he wasn't a big fan of cuff links. Sydney had talked him into them, but....  
  
Finally, noting that Arvin had yet to say a word, Jack stopped fussing and looked up. "Yes? What IS it?" he queried.  
  
"I'm wondering," Arvin said slowly, "If you are out of your mind? Or is it just a particularly foolish, potentially fatal, midlife crisis?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Jack asked frostily.  
  
"Please, Jack. Let's cut the crap. Last month --moving Tippin in with you? What were you thinking? Are you thinking at all?" Arvin demanded. Jack squirmed a little and said defensively, "So? I have a housemate, now. So what?"  
  
"A housemate? Is that what you call it? "  
  
"Why do you care? Why do you have such a personal interest in this? I am wondering that, Arvin."  
  
"Again, it's the security risk."  
  
"Really? It seems to me that having Tippin in my house, where I can keep an eye on him and know if he's stepping over any lines, would lessen the risk. Which, by the way, is nothing. He's working for some damn travel magazine and is glad to have that job."  
  
Arvin shook his head slowly, "But, Jack, the risk." "What risk?"  
  
"The risk of you saying something in a moment.." Sloane trailed off as Jack pushed the chair back and stood up. Arvin inched off the desk and backed away. Dropping his previously lax attitude, Jack assumed his more customary mantle of control. "Between you and Ariana Kane, what is this sudden fascination with my supposed sex life, Arvin? In all the years we've known each other, we have never had ANY conversation on the topic, which has suited me fine, in case you're wondering. What, all of a sudden, do you find so interesting? I am wondering. And why in the world would you think, if Tippin and I were involved, that I would be the kind to spill secrets? I believe I learned that lesson with Irina, don't you think? In any case, Tippin shares my house. Period. He has his own room, he sleeps in his own bed. I defy you to prove anything else."  
  
Seeing Arvin's eyes flare with interest, Jack continued, "I mean, really, Arvin. Tippin is young enough to be my son. That would be somewhat...pathetic, wouldn't it?"  
  
Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the room and let the door slam behind him. One of these days, he thought, he was really going to have to find a new hobby. But not just yet.  
  
Chapter 25: "If you cannot convince them, confuse them." (Harry Truman)  
  
Mmm, what a way to wake up, Will mused, still mostly asleep, feeling Jack's lips and tongue slide warmly across his mouth. Reaching up blindly, he put his arms around Jack's neck and opened his mouth. Gently, slowly, Jack explored the familiar territory. Even mostly asleep, it wasn't long before Will was returning the kisses with ever deeper strokes of his own tongue. Still not opening his eyes, he pulled back and asked, "Jack, what time is it? Didn't we just fall asleep? Aren't you tired?"  
  
"Poor thing," Jack laughed softly in the darkened room as he stroked Will's arms and shoulders. Rolling his shoulders experimentally, Will said, "My muscles are still sore from all those drills you had us do when you got home. I'm gonna be a mess in the morning and you want to---"  
  
"I want to make love to you. Open your legs." Automatically, Will complied and then sighed as Jack resumed kissing him, settling his warm naked body between Will's legs and over his chest. Holding himself up on one elbow, Jack whispered, "See that wasn't so bad, doing what you were told, was it? I'm not hearing any complaints like I did in the basement."  
  
"Hmm, like I would ever resist that mouth of yours. Maybe you should have used that instead of yelling at me, 'Throw harder!' It could be a new teaching technique, only you can use it only on-"  
  
"You. But I should keep that in mind, that I should be using my mouth for actions other than yelling to persuade you to do what I want?"  
  
"You know the truth, wherever, whenever, all you have to do is kiss me and whatever you want." Still so sleepy, feeling like he was floating, Jack's mouth on his, Jack's hands caressing his body seemed like part of a dream, his mind wandered.  
  
Jack pulled his face back and with his left index finger traced the smile on Will's lips. "What's so funny, Tippin?" he asked as Will half-opened his eyes.  
  
"I'm just remembering, when we were first going out, when we'd spend all that time just making out."  
  
"Good memories?"  
  
"Mmm, and I was remembering how tentative you were with your hands then."  
  
"I was trying..." Jack trailed off.  
  
"Trying to figure out this attraction between us?"  
  
"Yes. I'd never had feelings like that for a man before and it was confusing."  
  
"You're certainly not confused anymore, judging by the way you use your hands now," Will smiled. He began to close his eyes again, only to stop when Jack said, "No, it didn't take me long to figure out that some things you just have to accept." Then he added quietly, "Accept as a gift." He lowered his head again and whispered, "Are you too tired? Are you awake enough to do this?"  
  
"Hmm, you can wake me up some more. But I want to know, just where do you get your energy?"  
  
Jack blurted out the answer, "From you, from how I feel about you, from how you feel about me. That's when I lost my confusion, when I realized that my desire for you sprang from my feelings for you." He looked surprised at his own candor.  
  
"Show me. Again," Will said softly, looking up into Jack's eyes. "I'm awake."  
  
Across town, another man nursed a drink while staring at the covers mounded over a form in his bed. Wondering silently, was this pathetic? Was he pathetic? What was he doing? Who was the cat and who the mouse?  
  
Chapter 26: "No opera plot can be sensible, for in sensible situations people do not sing." (W.H. Auden)  
  
"Syd, are you listening? You look tired and.bemused, I guess I'd say." Vaughn said carefully. As always. Careful was his middle name wasn't it? What WAS his middle name? See, just another thing she did not know about him. Focus, Syd.  
  
"I am. Last night I was up late and it was just a weird night. Almost surreal."  
  
"Why, what happened?"  
  
"You would never believe it. Anyway, it's a long story and I'm sure you've got better things to do than hear it."  
  
"No, actually, I don't. Tell me."  
  
"Francie, Will and I conned my dad into going with us to a karaoke bar."  
  
"Jack? Jack Bristow in a karaoke bar? I'd pay good money to have seen that." Vaughn laughed. " Just how uncomfortable was he?"  
  
"You're not gonna believe this, but he was the best singer all night. He got a standing ovation." She shook her head.  
  
"You. Are. Kidding. Jack Bristow singing? Jack Bristow singing in public? In a karaoke bar? There is no way, without video surveillance, that I will ever believe that. "  
  
"You know, just know, Dad's already had the bar's security tape pulled and destroyed, don't you?" Syd laughed too. "Well, actually, I had forgotten, completely forgotten, until last night, that before Irina left, Dad used to sing around the house all the time. He had a really good voice. And a song for every occasion, every incident in life. It would drive my mother crazy because when he really got going, she said she felt like she was living on the set of that old game show, 'Name That Tune.' She asked me a while back if he still sang. She said he had come down her hallway humming -"  
  
"Humming? Jack? In that hallway?"  
  
"Yeah, he told her it was the theme song from that old tv show, 'Get Smart'." Syd smiled and began to laugh. "Isn't that a scream? 'Get Smart'? Remember how Don Adams, he played this totally inept spy and he had to go down through that long corridor with all those gates and doors to talk on his shoe phone. Or was it a pay phone?"  
  
Vaughn cracked up. "He was humming 'Get Smart'? I think I'll start calling you Agent 99. Or is that your mother? I'll be thinking of that the next time I walk down that hallway. That's hysterical, actually."  
  
"I know. Lately, I've seen much more of his sense of humor. Anyway, she didn't know about 'Get Smart' and thought I was insane for just giggling for a few minutes. But she said the humming reminded her of his fascination with music. She said he had the most amazing musical memory she had ever known. Heard a song once and could sing it for the first time years later in perfect pitch. Which of course would have been important to her because of the connection between musicality and math. Anyway, I had forgotten the music even after Irina brought it up, even after that concert we all went to, even after hearing Will and my dad talk about all the concerts they go to. I can't believe I had forgotten. Or truthfully, I 'd chosen not to remember."  
  
"I need to sit down. This is totally changing my perception of Jack. It makes me think we should have had him analyzing those tunes off the Rambaldi music box. It also makes me think, Syd."  
  
"About just what my mother's betrayal did to him? Me, too." She looked away. "I have been selfish, really thinking only about what it did to me. But, last night, sitting there, I think for the first time I truly understood what that betrayal took away from him. Everything. Just everything. His wife, his judgment, his belief in himself, his ability to enjoy life.everything." She paused, thinking, then smiled. "And then.. last night he was singing 'Surrey with the Fringe on Top' with Francie in a karaoke bar."  
  
Vaughn burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Syd, but the very notion."  
  
"I know, I almost peed my pants myself. How Will is able to con him into these things, I don't know."  
  
"Will?"  
  
"Well, it all started when my dad was late. Will went to get some tunes and ended up showing us my dad's music collection. Every since he moved into my father's about two months ago, he's been talking about this collection. It's huge, amazing. And I started to remember what my mom had said and blurted out something about my dad singing. That's where we got the idea to go to karaoke. When my dad came home yesterday, he was in a really good mood - he must have nailed Sloane again for something yesterday - and Will conned him, somehow, I'll never understand it. Not that we thought any of us would actually get up and sing. Well, maybe Will, he has no inhibitions. But my dad? Never."  
  
"Well, how did you get him up on stage? I mean if he hasn't sung in twenty years?"  
  
"You know Will. He's like a dog with a bone sometimes. He just kept badgering him. I know you must think that my dad pushes Will around, but honestly, Will is really good at getting my dad to do things he doesn't really want to do. Meanwhile, I kept saying in my best, whiney, little girl voice, 'Daddy, please? I remember when I was a kid...' and sniffing a little."  
  
"He didn't buy that?"  
  
"Nah, but it tugged on the old guilt strings. And Francie and I kept his drink filled. But Will was relentless. And suddenly Jack Bristow's up there singing show tunes."  
  
"I still can't believe it."  
  
"Believe it. He even has a little plastic trophy. To commemorate one of the weirdest nights of my life. I have such a headache."  
  
"Hungover? Maybe the whole scene was just the product of hallucinatory drunkenness?"  
  
"I wish. No, it's because I was awake for most of the night remembering. And then trying to figure out how Will does it, how he gets my dad to do these things. What's the key? Anyway, what did you want? I've taken up too much time. It's Sunday, you weren't at work, you don't have on a suit." She smiled approvingly at his jeans and tshirt. For a slender guy, he had great arms. For once, she'd like him to walk away first so she had the opportunity to see his butt. Even in that bar, all those months ago, she had been the one to walk away first, with nothing resolved between them.  
  
"It's no big deal, I just needed you to look at this intel from your last mission. It will take just a minute or two for you to interpret and then you can go."  
  
"Good, I'm late. Francie and I bet Will that if he was successful in getting my dad up on stage, we'd make and deliver a gourmet brunch this morning over to the 'Will and Jack show.'"  
  
"Are you still calling them that?"  
  
"Sure. You should see them together." She stopped and then said quickly, "Give me the intel." When she finished and handed it back, giving her interpretation, he said thoughtfully, "You four are spending a lot of time together, aren't you?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess. Now that my dad and Will are such good friends, which is weird I know. Will drags him everywhere. Although my dad drags Will to places he'd never go - like men's stores that don't sell corduroy. I'll have to tell you that story some time." She laughed. "But actually, although I'm a little jealous sometimes of their relationship, I am grateful, really, to Will. I feel like I'm finally getting to know my father now."  
  
"Well, it sounds like he's a fascinating person, once you strip away that mask he's been wearing for twenty years and get him to actually open up."  
  
Syd was silent for a moment, thinking. "What a good way to put it. He HAS been wearing a mask for twenty years. Maybe he's finally getting some closure now that he's able to look my mother in the eye," Syd said slowly.  
  
"And maybe you opening up to him a little and whatever it is that Will does for him."  
  
"Umm. You know, I was thinking. Do you have any where to go after we leave here?" Now she was speaking fast, very fast.  
  
"No, not really. Why? Aren't you on your way to your dad's house?"  
  
"Why don't you come with me? I was just thinking.there's tons of boxes here. You could get in one and I could have the attendant help me wheel you out and into my SUV. You can be my books for my dissertation, I can tell him that I really do store them here to perfect the cover. Then I could drive into my dad's garage and you could get out. No one would ever know. You know my dad's house is better than a CIA safe house."  
  
"That's crazy."  
  
"Okay, fine. It was just an idea. I thought it would be fun to sit around on a Sunday with the people who are important in my life, with you, and just hang out."  
  
"No, no, you're right. Why wouldn't it work? Let's go ahead."  
  
Chapter 27: "I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being really good all the time. That would be hypocrisy." (Oscar Wilde)  
  
"Jack, that's your phone ringing." "Hello?" "Daddy, it's me. Can you move your car out of the garage? I need to drive mine inside. I have a surprise." "Sure, but Francie brought more than enough food, so I hope it's not that." "No. It's not. See you in about 15 minutes. Bye." What was that smile in her voice about, Jack wondered.  
  
Francie was unloading one of her two caterer's boxes on the kitchen counter as he came back in from moving his car. "Francie, you brought enough to feed an army. And why are you and Syd doing this anyway?," Jack asked as he yawned his way into the kitchen. Francie did a doubletake as she noted that Jack was wearing jeans and a tshirt. Neatly-pressed jeans and heavy-weight silk-blend black tshirt, to be sure, but Jack in jeans? Was the world coming to an end? Would she see him in sneakers next?  
  
Trying not to laugh at the mental image, Francie answered, "Syd and I promised Will that if he could get you on stage last night, we'd deliver a gourmet brunch this morning."  
  
"Is that so? He never told me there was a brunch at stake. I still can't believe I did that, got up on stage." Jack walked over to the coffee machine. "Try that coffee - it's a new blend I'm thinking about for the restaurant. But as for last night -- believe it, your little plastic trophy is right up there on the refrigerator. I wish I'd had a camera."  
  
"I am eternally grateful that you did not. What the people at work would think..."  
  
"You and Syd spend too much time at work, worrying about work. You're both workaholics of the worst kind. That's why last night was so great. You got to really unwind. How often do you get to do that?" "I suppose, but I still can't believe I let the three of you talk me into a karaoke bar of all things."  
  
Will came in grinning, "Well, it's better than what I originally wanted to do last night, isn't it?"  
  
"Humph. That is never going to happen." Jack grumped as he poured himself a cup of coffee.  
  
"Never going to happen?" Francie asked, smiling. "I wouldn't say that if I were you, Jack, look at all the stupid things Will's already conned you into."  
  
Jack said firmly, "Not this one."  
  
Francie gave Will a quizzical look. "I wanted to go to a dance club," Will said in response. Francie chuckled, "I gotta admit, I don't see it."  
  
"I don't mean one of those techno dance clubs for kids. We're all too old for that. But I was thinking a jazz type place. We've got two men, two women, there's no reason why not."  
  
"Forget it, Tippin. Absolutely not going to happen. Ever."  
  
Wills smirked. "But, why not? I mean, we all know, now, that you are musical. And I, for one, know that you can get a good rhythm going when you want to."  
  
Jack dropped his coffee cup and stared at Will in shock. Had he really said that in front of Francie? Turning towards her, he watched her let out a shriek of laughter and spit out the orange juice she had just sipped. And then she giggled helplessly when she saw the swash of red climb up Jack's face. He turned around and walked into the pantry, no doubt to get the mop or possibly, Francie thought, to just hang himself.  
  
Between giggles, Francie said warningly, "Be careful, Will. Don't push him too hard." Will raised his eyebrow and mouthed silently, 'Push him....hard?' "Don't even think of saying it, Tippin," Jack yelled from the pantry. Francie fell into another paroxysm of laughter.  
  
"Saying what?" Syd asked as she came in, "Did I miss something?" Francie choked on her laughter and began giggling again.  
  
"Yes, thank God." Jack said as he reentered the room. "What was the surprise?"  
  
"Oh, good, did you bring him?" Francie asked.  
  
"Yes, he's here. He's helping me with a box in the car. Will and Dad, could you help him?"  
  
"He? Who's he?" Jack asked, knowing the answer.  
  
"This guy at the bank she's had a crush on," Francie said smugly. "I told her this morning when he called to drag her into work that she should invite him back over here for brunch. There's more than enough food. And I'd like to meet the guy. I only ever saw him the once in that bar. I'd like to see if he's really as 'hot cute' as Syd says he is. I still don't know why she didn't go home with him that night."  
  
"Francie! My dad doesn't want to hear stuff like that," Sydney protested.  
  
"There's lots I don't want to hear that I've heard this morning." Jack mumbled. Francie giggled again as she took the mop from Jack.  
  
"Are you crazy? What were you thinking bringing him here?" Jack asked quietly as he made his way over to Syd's SUV. Syd told him of the plan as they walked over. "Well, actually, that's good. Low tech, but good. I'm surprised you haven't thought of it before." Syd lowered the back door of the vehicle. Vaughn had already knifed open the tape from within and popped his head out. Will laughed, "Vaughn-in-the-box, Syd?"  
  
"Shh, where's Francie?" Sydney whispered.  
  
"Don't worry. I left her mopping up the floor and she's still laughing her head off, no doubt," Jack answered.  
  
"Hey, what happened in there, anyway? There's coffee and juice all over the floor. And your jeans, Dad." Syd told him. And then she thought, "JEANS?"  
  
"Oh great, I need to change now, thanks to Tippin and his stupid jokes."  
  
"Hey, Francie thought they were pretty funny," Will protested.  
  
Jack responded, "You both have the maturity of twelve year olds."  
  
"That sounds like the Jack Bristow I know," Vaughn whispered like everyone else as he climbed out of the box, "Not like this guy named Jack Bristow that I hear got a standing ovation and a cute little plastic trophy at karaoke last night." Jack glowered at Sydney,"You told him? Great, now he'll tell Weiss and next thing I know it will be the front page banner on the Company newsletter." Will and Sydney cracked up, while Vaughn just looked confused. Had Jack just made a joke, a sarcastic one, but a joke nonetheless?  
  
Vaughn smiled slowly as he decided to go with the flow. "I can only wish that you didn't already have that security tape pulled. Big money, big money I would have paid to see that. In fact, I could have made big money showing clips to everyone at work. Who did you send? Maybe I can cut a deal," Vaughn laughed.  
  
Will said, "Oh. I never thought of that. That's why you were on the phone last night when we got home, wasn't it?"  
  
"Somebody's got to think of this stuff," Jack growled.  
  
"Ouch," Vaughn groaned as he got out of the back of the SUV. "Syd, you could have been a little slower going around corners you know. I got pretty banged up back there. My right shoulder and hip are going to have huge bruises on them."  
  
Will chuckled. "I sympathize, Mike. I've got a bruise on my hip myself that is killing me. You never realize how often you bang your hip on counters, and chairs and whatnot until you get a bruise there.," Will trailed off, thinking he really had to learn to keep his mouth shut. Here we go.  
  
"What are you talking about Will? When did you get a bruise on your hip?" Jack asked.  
  
"Oh brother, here he goes. Dr. Bristow," Syd whispered to Vaughn. "What do you mean?" Vaughn asked. "Will said once my father is so protective of the people he cares about, it's ridiculous."  
  
"What are you saying, Syd?" Jack asked suspiciously. She repeated what Will had said. "That's not true, I'm not overprotective." All three snorted. "Give me an example," Jack demanded.  
  
"Okay, how about when I fell down and scraped my leg in Kashmir and you practically knocked over Irina so that you could be the one to bandage me up? You acted like I had amputated my leg or something." "Well," Jack started.  
  
Syd snorted, "Well, nothing. Will's right. You're overprotective. Go take a look at his bruise before you torment yourself into an early grave over it. I'll introduce Francie and Michael."  
  
"May I ask just what name you are going to use for his last name? And how are you going to convince her not to talk about him unless there's a bugkiller around? Or hadn't you thought of that?" Jack whispered harshly as he pulled Will inside.  
  
Francie looked up from mopping as the two came through the door. "Syd will be right in with Michael." "What did you two think of him?" she asked eagerly. "Seems nice enough," Jack said. "Hot cute, I guess," laughed Will. "We'll be right back. I need to check Will - he has a bruise and I need to change my pants," Jack called out as they went upstairs to the master bathroom.  
  
Chapter 28: "Children show their scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh." (Leonard Cohen)  
  
After Jack changed his pants, he pushed Will into the bathroom and shut the door. "Let me see this bruise."  
  
"It's nothing, Jack, really I was just trying to make conversation."  
  
"I'll be the judge of that, let me see." Jack just stared at him and Will gave up. Like he had or would ever win a staredown with Jack Bristow anyway. Sighing, he reluctantly shoved his jeans down. Jack frowned when he saw the identical bruises on both sides of Will's front and back hips. "Will, what are these? They weren't there last night," Jack asked. Then he looked closer, "Those are my fingers, my hands, aren't they? Why didn't you say anything? I must have been squeezing you so hard. I am sorry," Jack said with his jaw clenched.  
  
Will stared at him. "I know what you're thinking. You're excoriating yourself for hurting me. That's why I've never said anything before. My bruises always go away quickly and if I'd kept my big mouth shut this morning, then tonight like always you'd never have known." Oh shit, he should have kept his mouth shut right then.  
  
"What do you mean, before? I've done this before? Why didn't you tell me? When have I done it?" He gently touched the bruise that corresponded to his right index finger  
  
"Really, I don't even notice when you do it. At the time, I'm usually a little wrapped up in what another part of your body is doing, " Will laughed to try and lighten the moment.  
  
"When have I done it before? Tell me." "I., alright. You do it, sometimes, most times, when you are getting ready to go on a mission. That's how I can usually tell when to worry. The harder you hold me the night before, the more dangerous the mission is. Then the bruises are thumb on front, fingers on back because."  
  
"Because we are face to face," Jack said quietly, looking away, before saying flatly, "But these bruises are the reverse."  
  
"Yes, when something happens like last night. When we are someplace and some woman hits on me or tries to flirt."  
  
"I didn't even realize." Jack trailed off with a grimace on his face.  
  
"The pattern? That when you are feeling possessive you feel the need to - conquer? Take me?"  
  
"Great, there's a pattern."  
  
"Hey, I know you like to be unpredictable. But when you are jealous or insecure or just in a certain mood, well, actually you are unpredictable, Jack," Will laughed. "After all, I never know where you are going to grab me and what I am going to be bent over - the table, the counter, the bed, remember the sofa in the apartment was the perfect height? Or remember that time we didn't even make it into the house and we did it on the hood of the car in your garage? Remember?"  
  
Suddenly, the tension in the room became sexual. "God, yes, that was the most amazing." Jack groaned, but the sound was stopped by Will's mouth as their passion fed on each other and the memories of that incident.  
  
Jack pulled back. Neither spoke for a moment as they struggled for control, until Jack asked quietly, "But to give you bruises?"  
  
"Are you kidding? Do you ever hear me complaining? I love it when you lose it like that."  
  
Jack's head jerked up, "Do you do it on purpose? Provoke me?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe I like knowing that I can access this primitive need you have to make me yours."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Jack asked defensively.  
  
Will responded, "Don't you think you are trying to say, 'Hands off, he's mine'? Subconsciously? And that's why I don't get upset about it. After Irina, you're afraid that you can't hold onto the people you love." He waited for Jack to explode, that remark was cutting a little too close to the bone. But Jack was looking at the bruises and touching each one carefully with the same finger that had inflicted the mark, as if he could wipe the marks away with a touch. He said nothing. Will knew he must be thinking about his last statement. It was a measure of Jack's changes that he had not responded defensively and aggressively.  
  
Will smiled softly as he watched him. "You know, there are five bruises. I guess I am a sentimental fool, because one time I was looking at them, thinking about how I see them when you are driven to the edge with fear or worry or sheer possessiveness and how each time I think, this will be the time, this time his feelings will override his fear of telling me, of giving me what he thinks is power over him. This will be the time he tells me, the time he says it, this time when I say 'I love you', he'll say it back. And it hasn't happened yet. But I look at those four bruises on the one side, and I think they mean what I want them to mean, what I want you to say, 'Will, I love you." And the thumb print on the other side is like your signature, 'Jack'"  
  
Jack swallowed hard and looked up slowly. "I am ashamed."  
  
"Don't be. I know you never mean, in any way, to hurt me. And really, it doesn't hurt. Christ, Jack you are so protective of those you love, you'd never deliberately hurt me."  
  
"I wish, I just..."  
  
"I know, you're not ready yet. I understand and I'm willing to wait for as long as it takes. But, if you want to mark your territory, as it were--" Will said to try again and lighten the mood, after all they had to go back out there and make nice with Francie, Syd and Jack's future son-in-law. Jack scowled and interrupted, "That is so crude."  
  
"Well, isn't that we all do, in every culture? Isn't that what wedding rings are about, for example, saying this person is off limits? So, we could. or Vaughn has a tattoo, I could get one," Will said teasingly, knowing Jack would hate the idea.  
  
"Absolutely not. Those things are so trashy."  
  
"Syd probably likes it."  
  
"Well, she wouldn't if she knew it was from a former girlfriend."  
  
"Former girlfriend? How do you know that? Forget it, why do I ask?"  
  
"No, I think not. But let me think about this. You've given me a lot to think about. I don't want to hurt you again."  
  
"That's ridiculous. You just get carried away and I like it," Will said emphatically.  
  
"It's not ridiculous to me, Will."  
  
"Why, because you have to have control over yourself all the time? I know that's important to you, but I love it when you lose that control."  
  
"I see."  
  
"That's why I don't really notice it as it happens. Like I said, I've got other things on my mind." They shared a smile as Will snapped his jeans closed.  
  
Bang, bang on the door. Syd yelled, laughing, "Dad, are you wrapping him up like the Michelin tire man or what? Come on, already. Francie and I have the food all served up."  
  
Chapter 29: "Friends are as companions on a journey, who ought to aid each other to persevere in the road to a happier life." (Pythagoras)  
  
Vaughn's forehead wrinkled, approximately 6 wrinkles this time, as he saw the huge smiles on Will and Jack's faces as they came downstairs, followed by Syd. What in the world--? "Hey," Francie called out, "What were you two doing in there, anyway?"  
  
"Oh, I had a bruise and you know Jack."  
  
"Oh yeah. Dr. Bristow in action," Francie said sarcastically. Syd giggled, "See Dad - that's exactly what I said!"  
  
Francie began to reminisce, "Syd, remember that time you fell out of the tree at my house and it was your nanny's day off, so my mom called your dad? Remember he drove into the yard so fast he almost hit my parents' car and plowed right through my mom's roses?"  
  
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that! Remember how he was yelling at your mom for not watching us better?" Everyone laughed at the look of consternation on Jack's face.  
  
"And then my mom was telling him all about these superhero escapades you would rig up in our back yard or yours, when your nanny was taking a nap. I can still see how white his face was when my mom was talking about the time you rigged up that wire between the garage and the house and proceeded to---."  
  
Jack covered his face with his hands, "Stop it. I can't relive it. She's was 7 years old at the time. I still don't know how you survived your own childhood, Syd, really I don't. And why is it I let you all come over here to harass me anyway? Remind me, someone."  
  
To Vaughn's complete and utter astonishment, Will, who had been walking behind Jack, reached over and squeezed Bristow's shoulders with both hands, saying, "Oh, come on, Bristow. You love it." Had someone just touched Jack Bristow and lived to tell the tale? Had someone just used the word, 'love' in connection with, in front of Jack Bristow? He looked around and saw that he was the only one surprised. Syd was laughing too and gave her father a pat as she got up to get more coffee. Syd was patting her father? What in the world was going on here? Had he stepped into an alternate universe?  
  
As Syd turned away she wondered if her risky behavior as a kid may have played some small part in Jack's decision to enroll her in his Project Christmas. If you knew your child's mother was really an adept spy and that child was engaging in death-defying physical acts while pretending to be a superhero.... She'd think about it later. This was a prime opportunity to find out more about Vaughn. "So Michael, were you as stupid as I was as a kid? Did you give your mother white hair or were you a good boy?"  
  
Chapter 30: "You can observe a lot just by watching." (Yogi Berra)  
  
Later that day, Vaughn called from his box, "So, Syd, that was interesting. Your father was really different, today."  
  
"Everyone keeps saying that, that he's different lately."  
  
"Any ideas as to why?"  
  
"I'm not really sure. I think, like I said before it has partly to do with closure with Irina. I think maybe he's healing. And I know it has something to do with Will. I still can't believe that my dad had Will move into the house. He's always hoarded his privacy before. He never really said why the change. But it seems to make him happy for some reason."  
  
In his box, Vaughn rolled his eyes. He had an idea or two. "Well, I was surprised at how your dad lets Will get away with that touchy-feely business of his." Hint, hint.  
  
"Yeah, Will's whole family is like that. Originally, it would really bother my dad. But now he just ignores it like the rest of us. And anyway, everyone can use a hug now and then." Talk about ignoring something, Vaughn thought. Not that Jack gave anything away, he would always be circumspect - too many years as a double agent had stamped caution and discretion into his behavior. It was Will that was obvious in his near-adoration of the older man, even though he teased him mercilessly on his foibles and hang- ups. The giveaway was the fact that Jack didn't kill Will for that hug and the jokes, that he let Syd and Francie tease him, too. And where had that sense of humor come from? He had them all in stitches several times with his dry comments, the kind you had to think about for a minute. He hadn't ever suspected Jack had a sense of humor!  
  
"Your dad seems to lose twenty years when he's relaxing like that."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I was talking about - what you called the mask? He still has it at work, but at home it's like he's learning how to relax and just, well, live again."  
  
"And Will, is it my imagination, or is he different too?"  
  
"You think so too? Francie was saying that the other day. That those years my father seems to be losing seem to be going to Will, that he's not the goof he used to be. Well, he's still kind of goofy, but.."  
  
"Grown up? Finally?"  
  
"Yeah. Are we almost there? This is uncomfortable."  
  
"Poor baby. Just a few more minutes. Or I could drive faster and really zip around those corners?" "No thanks!"  
  
Later that night, Jack sat Will sat down to watch the surveillance tape. "Hey, this part is good. You and Francie could go on tour." "Shut up, already." The tape continued as Will laughed at Jack's performance. Jack cringed. He needed more practice time if he were going to do that idiocy again. Suddenly, Will asked, "Who's that?" "That guy watching us?" "Yeah." "That's the one. Good job, Will. He's really watching Francie. Now he's taking pictures - see that ring on his hand? That's a camera. Bingo."  
  
"Did you call Devlin?"  
  
"Yes at 2am. I told him the bait was set and that I had taken all necessary precautions. Okay, let's rewind and go to bed. I was up in the middle of the night while you were sleeping. I'm beat. I'll put the tape away."  
  
Chapter 31: "Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage." (Lao-Tzu)  
  
Jack visited India beginning the next day. Returning ten days later, he came home late one evening and found Will working in the study, engrossed in a book. He carefully placed three tiny pouches on the desk where Will was working. Some time ago, after Will had moved his computer into Jack's office without asking and made a complete disaster out of the room, Jack had asked Will why he didn't just work upstairs in "his" room. Will had replied, in the tone of voice one used when talking to a total idiot, "Because I'd rather be close to you and your stuff." Jack had just stared at him in disbelief at his openness, while Will smiled and shook his head. Gazing fondly now at Will's blond head bent over his work, Jack mused that openness would not be a good quality in a field agent, unless one knew how to use it properly. But in a friend, a lover....He had long since come to realize that Will's openness was his strength. Jack knew, although he'd never admit it, that he relied, depended upon that strength, if only to compensate for his own inadequacies in that regard. Oh well, he was learning to live with a little mess. And every once in a while, he'd have a fit and Will would clean up. It all worked out.  
  
Speaking softly, he said, "Will." The younger man jumped and then laughed, "I didn't even hear you come in." Rolling his eyes, Jack said, "I know. That's why I beefed up the security so much when you moved in." Will's eyes fell on the pouches. Jack opened two of the pouches and showed the contents to Will, but did not take them out. Both men gave a last glance to the pouches as Jack placed them in the safe. The last pouch, he opened and from it removed a ring. It was heavy, of white gold and had a wide band with a wider, square signet-style front to it. "Let me explain to you the meaning of the metalwork on this ring. And the inscription inside. Which finger would you like to wear it on?" Will swallowed hard as he met Jack's' eyes. He knew what this moment meant. There was no turning back now, the commitment was made, the die was cast.  
  
Chapter 32: "We are all what we pretend to be, but, we had better be very careful what we pretend." (Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.)  
  
Two days later, Will was hanging out with Syd and Francie. "So, Francie, anything interesting at the restaurant lately?" Will asked.  
  
"Did I tell you guys I had to fire a new waiter for trying to steal from my purse, my tote?"  
  
"No! What happened?" Syd asked.  
  
"I had this new guy for two days. Did a pretty good job. But then today I was in the dining room talking to a supplier and realized I needed my day planner. So I went into the closet that I call my office and lo and behold, there was the new guy with his hand in my purse!"  
  
"Did you call the cops?" Will asked casually.  
  
"Nah, it's more trouble than it's worth."  
  
"Give me his name and Social Security number and I'll run a check on him. You should do that with all your employees, Francie, I still have connections. You don't want to hire some felon."  
  
"You mean like you, Will?"  
  
"Ha, Ha. Actually, now that I think about it - remember I left my checkbook in your tote the other day? Can I look for it?"  
  
"Sure, the tote is on the counter, right there." Will rummaged around in the tote and pulled out his checkbook, "What a mess in here. And you make fun of my closest. If Jack could see the inside of this tote, there would be some reorganization in YOUR future. Where is it? Ah, voila!" and laid the checkbook on the counter.  
  
Suddenly, Francie exclaimed and grabbed Will's left hand, "Where did you get this ring? It's beautiful, so exotic!"  
  
"It looks like Indian metalwork to me," Syd said, also holding his hand for a better view.  
  
Will nodded, "Good eye, Syd. Your dad got it for me on this last trip to India. I was complaining how you two are always going to these exotic places and I never see any souvenirs."  
  
"What are you, three years old?" Syd asked, putting his hand down and rolling her eyes. Francie protested, "Hey, I wouldn't mind if you brought me home a tshirt that said, 'My friend went to London or Calcutta or Taipei and all I got was this lousy tshirt.'!"  
  
Syd met Will's eyes, "Believe me, Francie, a lousy tshirt is all you'd ever want from Taipei. I don't have fond memories of that place."  
  
"Whatever. But hey - how about that idea? You could create a tshirt collection for me. Like Jack's tie collection. It'd be easy. Just buy them in the airport, if you ran out of time on that slave schedule the bank keeps you on. I'd have my own Sydney Bristow travelogue in my closet." Syd laughed, "Okay, I'll think about it. I never knew you two wanted to live vicariously."  
  
Syd shook her head and Will's hand caught her eye. "I can't believe we didn't notice that ring the minute you came in. Will, let me see it again." "Why?"  
  
"Just let me see it. Hmm. That's what I thought. This ring is some expensive 'souvenir', let me tell you. Chasework, metalwork of this quality - that's custom work on this band. And what's the gold weight? Take it off, let me see."  
  
"No. I don't need to take it off. It's 22 karat. Jack told me when he was showing me the inscr---" Syd interrupted, "Look, there are 'W's all over it if you look carefully. Wow. Wow. It's a work of art, really. Just what did you do for my dad to net this?" Francie choked.  
  
Syd looked over at her, "Francie, honestly, I think you need to see a doctor about this problem with choking you've been having."  
  
"No, really, Syd, I'm fine," Francie protested and then turned to Will, "Hey, maybe I should be asking Jack for souvenirs instead of you. That ring is a lot more than some tshirt."  
  
"No kidding," Syd noted. "But, Will, that ring is awfully thick, especially with those ridges from the metalwork. Doesn't it irritate your fingers on either side? I'm sure my dad wouldn't want you to wear something uncomfortable."  
  
"No, it's fine. I got used to it pretty quickly." She stared at it. "What?" Will asked.  
  
"Why are you wearing it on your left ring finger, anyway?" Francie and Will exchanged a quick look, had the moment finally arrived? Syd continued, "Women will think you're married. Aren't you looking for someone? Don't you want to date? Wait a minute, Francie said a while back that you had been dating? So, spill, what's going on with your love life." Francie and Will stared at her. She was just amazingly obtuse. "What? What am I missing? Are you two going out or something and I've been missing it?" Both laughed loudly.  
  
Francie gasped, "Yeah, right. Forget about us. What about you?" Will added, "Yeah. Been seeing Michael at work lately?" As Jack always said, the best defense was a good offense. Fielding that question would keep her brain busy for a while. Although, honestly, this whole game with Syd was getting more amusing by the moment. What did he and Jack have to do, take out a notice in the paper?  
  
Syd got up to go to the refrigerator. Will picked up Francie's tote and stowed it in the front closet. "Jack's neatnik qualities starting to rub off on you?" Francie teased.  
  
"Hardly," Will said as he walked back over.  
  
"Wait a minute," Francie whispered to Will. "Were you about to say something about an inscription?"  
  
"Yeah. It's a little code thing, it wouldn't mean anything to anyone else." "Code thing?" "Like a private joke. Only it's not-" "A joke. Right. It's between the two of you. Let me guess, Jack can't say yet, 'I love you,' so he has some kind of little code?" Will's jaw dropped. "You can tell Jack I said that. He thinks I am so oblivious. Oops, here comes the queen of denial. So, Will, you want to run my employees' names for convictions for theft, or what?"  
  
Later that night, Jack looked up as Will walked in. "So, did the girls notice your ring?"  
  
Will smiled, "You bet. Syd knew right away that you'd had it made in India. She was concerned that it was too thick."  
  
"Speaking of thick, did she.?"  
  
"No, amazing, isn't it, for someone's whose job is noticing details?"  
  
Jack rolled his eyes. "And you, did you get your checkbook out of Francie's tote?"  
  
"Sure, no problem. She said she'd had to fire a waiter for rifling through her purse. Gave me his name and Social Security number to check up on him - do you think he'd be stupid enough to give real info?" Jack cocked his head at him. "Yeah, I know you keep telling me.Anyway, everything was just as you expected." Will laughed, remembering, "Although you really need to talk to Francie about the mess in her tote. If you think my closet is bad..."  
  
Chapter 33: "Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without, but know we cannot live within." (James Baldwin) (The original version of this chapter was NC-17, which is at the Cover Me site.)  
  
"Hey, Will, it's Jack. Are you home or still at work?"  
  
"I got home about five minutes ago."  
  
"Can you do me a favor and have a drink ready when I come in the door?"  
  
"When you come in the door? What kind of day has it been?"  
  
"Endless. Absolutely endless. I spent the entire day on the computer, using email. But productive. After almost a year on this project, the end is in sight."  
  
"You're kidding. That's great. Maybe you need to take a walk or something and unwind when you get home."  
  
"Not tonight with the fitness and stress lecture, please. I just want to collapse."  
  
"Sure. See you when?" "In about 20 minutes." Good, that would give Will time to set up.  
  
As Jack walked in, Will asked, "So everything is.?"  
  
"Everything's in place." Jack hung up his coat as if it weighed several tons and in a way, it did. Eyeing him with concern, Will asked, "Are you okay?" Jack shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes remained anxious. "My people are in place, the electronics are in place, the wheels are in motion."  
  
Will said, "I know you'll worry yourself needlessly, I'm sure you set up everything. and checked it over a million times, every detail, right?"  
  
"Of course. Now I just have to wait."  
  
"And worry. But you've never thought there was any real danger."  
  
"No, it's not going to play out that way."  
  
"You've covered every angle. I'm not concerned."  
  
"Are you sure?" Jack asked with a crease between his brows.  
  
"Yes, even though I can't take care of myself, right?" Will joked.  
  
"Are you still ticked off about that comment?"  
  
"No, I just like to tease you with it. Now, come upstairs into the bedroom," Will urged.  
  
"Why?" Jack asked. Will laughed, "Always so suspicious. Just come with me."  
  
"What is all this?" Jack asked when he walked in the door of their room. The bed had been turned down and a large, fluffy bath sheet laid on the sheets. Will had a stack of Jack's favorite albums in the cd player and a glass of whiskey, with the bottle next to it on the nightstand. There was one small light in one corner and two candles, Francie's suggestion. "Mmm, I like that scent, what is it?" Jack asked.  
  
"Sandalwood. I'm glad - I didn't know if you'd like it or if you'd think it was too much."  
  
"What's not to like?" Jack shrugged, "But what's all this about?"  
  
"I want to give you another way to relax, a massage."  
  
"I don't know the last time I had a massage."  
  
"I can't imagine that you've had one in years, decades. After all, letting someone else use touch to massage away stress and tension would put you, in a way, under someone else's control, wouldn't it?"  
  
Jack's head jerked toward Will. "Are these comments supposed to make me feel less stress, Tippin?"  
  
"No, they are supposed to make you defensive enough to allow me to do it, Bristow."  
  
Jack smiled crookedly. "Okay, you got me. What do you want me to do?"  
  
"First, have a drink, all of it, while I get the massage oil from the bathroom where I've got it warming."  
  
"How did you get to know about all this, anyway?"  
  
"Last month when you were away for that week, I took a short massage class with Francie to fill up my spare time in the evenings. I didn't tell you, before you ask, because I wanted to surprise you. I've just been waiting for an opportunity."  
  
"Oh. Well, do you want me to take off all my clothes or--?"  
  
Will smiled. He was surprised that Jack had agreed so readily. Had what happened today made him so receptive? Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as he had thought. "No, just wait for a second and I'll be right back", Will told Jack. When he came back in the room, he was carrying a small ceramic bowl of hot water in which rested a small plastic bottle of oil.  
  
"Before you set down that bowl," Jack began.  
  
"I know, I brought a washcloth in to put under the bowl on the nightstand so we don't get a ring," Will laughed.  
  
"Speaking of rings?" Jack asked with a pointed look at Will's left hand. "Don't worry, after four months of being responsible for it, I do know where it is at all times. It's on the nightstand. I can't wear it while I give a massage. You stop worrying and just relax. Now stand up and let me undress you." "I can undress myself." "No. I want you to just let me do this all for you. I know you'll feel awkward at first, but let me." Reluctantly Jack stood; Will had expected the reluctance. Jack would feel anxiety at letting someone else take care of him because that implied need and therefore vulnerability.  
  
"I have taken off your clothes before, after all, Jack," Will teased.  
  
"I know, but that's different," Jack protested as Will slowly unbuttoned, unzipped and smoothed away his clothes. "Will you feel better if I take off my clothes too?" Will asked with a smile. Jack smiled in return, "Well, that always makes me feel better Tippin." Swiftly, Will removed his own clothes and then took a long drink from Jack's glass.  
  
Refilling the glass, he handed it back to Jack, "Here, you look like you could use it. It must have been pretty bad at work today. Did you talk to Syd about it?"  
  
"Yes, 'mother'. Some of it, anyway. I did like you've been telling me and talked to Syd about problems so I don't have to just internalize everything. Most of it, you know I couldn't tell her." Will had started to laugh at the "mother" comment.  
  
"Well, Jack, sometimes even you need to be taken care of, you know." "Is that what all this is about?" "Partially. Now lie face down for me on the towel."  
  
As Will rubbed the oil into his hands, a very light scent of sandalwood teased his senses. "I hope you like the scent, it matches the candles and I didn't see you liking one of the berry blends," Will teased as he began smoothing his hands over the tense, corded muscles of Jack's back and was gratified to hear him chuckle. Then more gratified when the chuckles turned into moans and groans of pleasure. Feeling the tightness in Jack's shoulders, Will asked, " How long did you spend on the computer today hacking into email servers, anyway?" "About 9 hours." "Then this is good timing. Just relax." Will poured everything into the massage, determined that when he was done Jack would be utterly soporific with tactile pleasure and relaxation, free of stress if even for just a few moments in time.  
  
"Now, turn over, "Will urged him. "Do I have to? I don't feel like I have any bones," Jack protested. "Good, that means I'm doing this properly. Turn over." "Mmmm", Jack said, as with eyes closed he flipped over slowly. Completely relaxed, his arms over his head, his eyes closed and with a small smile on his face, he was the picture of contentment. Will looked at him in astonishment, he had actually achieved his goal. "I don't think I've ever seen you like this before," he said as he poured a little more oil on his palms.  
  
"Well, you poured enough whiskey in me to begin with and I have to say that if you ever need another career, you could be a masseuse."  
  
"Like you would want me to touch other people like this, Jack?" With his eyes still closed, Jack smiled, "Well, you're right about that. I am somewhat, ahem, possessive. Your talents, you, are all mine." In the process of smoothing his palms down Jack's biceps, Will stopped. "Does that mean you're all mine too?"  
  
"Of course. C'mon."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
Jack burst out laughing and opened his eyes. "Tippin, the way you say 'seriously?' will always make my day. That's what I should have done today in the midst of all that crap, just call you up and give you some signal and you could say 'seriously?' just like that. I swear, the last word I want to hear before I die is you saying 'seriously?'"  
  
Meeting the warm look in Jack's eyes with his own, Will responded, "And the last words I want to hear would be 'you're all mine.'" Pressing Jack's arms into the mattress, Will leaned down and gently kissed Jack. "  
  
It wouldn't be, 'I love you'?" Jack asked when Will had lifted his head.  
  
"What, what did you say?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
"You said it. I don't believe it," Will said with a huge smile. "Finally." Jack smiled sleepily and lifted his head to Will's lips. Will realized that Jack must have finally reached some zone in which he felt comfortable expressing his feelings. Amazing. Today's work was a breakthrough in more ways than one? Or perhaps, this touching, with no purpose behind it other than to provide pleasure with no goal and no end in sight, had helped him reach it. Why though? Why had Jack finally accepted being ministered to, rather than always feeling the need to take care, protect, take charge?  
  
Happily, Will resumed massaging Jack, this time it was his front that drew all the attention. Slowly, slowly, Will began to use the oiled strokes to arouse his partner. After all this time, he knew what Jack liked. The curve of the bicep, the inner curve of the neck, the nipples, the inner slant of the hips, all received smooth stroking, while he studiously avoided Jack's rising cock and occasionally gave Jack light, licking, teasing kisses on his mouth. He was still astonished that Jack was letting him have his way like this. Never before had he ever had one moment of passivity. When finally Jack reached his arms up to put them around Will, Will took them away and Jack's eyes flew open. "What are you doing?"  
  
"No, I want you just to lie there. Just lie there and let me do this."  
  
"Why? What's going on?"  
  
"For once in your life, I just want you to lie there and let someone else do all the work, let someone else give to you while you just take." He instantly felt Jack's muscles tense. "Jack, I mean it." Looking at Will's intent face, Jack said slowly, "This means a lot to you, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yes. I really want to do this for you. And," he smiled impishly while reaching under the pillow and extracting two scarves, "If you don't agree, I'll just have to tie you down." They both knew that the scarves would never hold anyone who didn't want to be held, but with a start Will realized that the prospect of being tied had just caused Jack's cock to leap. Looking down, Will smiled and said, "So, some part of you likes the idea of losing all responsibility, giving all the control over to me." Although Will could still feel some tension in Jack's body, there was no anxiety in his eyes. "You're not worried that I'll do it, are you?" he asked ruefully.  
  
"Of course not, I know you'd never do anything I didn't want to you do."  
  
"You're right." Laughing, Will threw the scarves aside and reached for the glass. "Here have another drink. Finish it up."  
  
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Jack asked as Will reached for the oil again.  
  
Will looked at his partner. It had taken a while, but resuming the massage had finally brought Jack back to that place of total relaxation and abandonment. Once again, his arms lay slack above his head, while his long body sprawled on the bed. He couldn't believe that the massage, the whiskey and the music had done it all. There was something he was missing. What key had he inadvertently used that had allowed Jack to be like this, he wondered as he reached for a pillow and extra towel he had previously laid on the bottom of the bed. He didn't want to ruin Jack's expensive sheets, he thought with a smile, as he resumed touching him. As Jack automatically adjusted and moved his body in response to every touch, Will suddenly realized something: those expensively-finished Egyptian cotton sheets, the music, those smooth wine vintages, the hand-tailored shirts, the bathroom that was so sybaritic that Francie had gasped and blushed the first time she had seen it, those occasional days when Jack used his body and his hands and sometimes those scarves to ensure that they never left the bedroom.  
  
And then there was Jack's mouth. That wickedly skilled mouth that he employed so effectively. Jack could and would kiss endlessly, inventively, erotically, stopping only when Will begged him to do so before he nearly exploded just from the kissing alone. The way Jack bit his lover's lower lip alone really should be outlawed, he mused. While they were 'courting,' he had walked around in a sensual haze half the time just due to thinking about what Jack could do with his lips, his tongue, and teeth. He had never experienced anything like it before. He had never felt physically swept away before he began loving Jack. The truth, he realized with a deep note of recognition of a critical fact, was that Jack was a deeply-sensual person. A deeply-sensual person who had repressed most of that part of himself, certainly the sexual aspect of it, for years. He thought suddenly of that first time he had touched Jack's shoulder, so long ago. When he had done so in recompense for the thoughtless comment about Jack's marriage, to comfort him and the way Jack had started at his touch, how he had wondered at the time who comforted Jack, who touched Jack? That had really been, for him, the beginning of his awareness of Jack. He remembered too, that Jack had said once he felt he lost control of his feelings the day Will had touched his leg, unconscious though it had been, as a lover would have. Touch, that was it. He watched his hands endlessly stroking everywhere he could reach, with no goal other than giving just pure tactile pleasure, He knew now, that by touching Jack in this way, he had given Jack a gift and found the key. By tapping into Jack's sensuality, he had given him the gift of the freedom to be vulnerable.  
  
His attention snagged again by the curve of Jack's lower lip, he was surprised to hear Jack say, "You're quiet. What are you thinking about?" Without thinking, he replied, "Your mouth." Jack's eyes were half-opened as he teasingly ran his tongue along his lower lip. As always, Will felt his abdomen clench when Jack did that. He remembered the day when Syd had Vaughn here for the brunch. Jack had whispered to him that he would have payback for that rhythm remark. All morning he had been waiting, waiting, what would Jack do? Finally, when it was just the two of them in the kitchen and Will's hands had been carrying an empty tray to the sink, Jack had looked over at him and caught his eye. Will had stopped in his tracks at the heat in his gaze. Jack had slowly licked his lower lip so sensuously that Will had dropped the tray. "Are you remembering the tray incident?" Jack asked teasingly. "Don't get smug, Bristow." "Oh no?" "No, I think I've uncovered your weaknesses too. You're putty in my hands tonight." "Not exactly, Tippin," Jack said with a smile and a downward glance towards where Will's hands were slowly stroking him.  
  
Will realized that while he had been lost in his thoughts and contemplation of Jack's mouth, his hands had been slowly, languidly, urging Jack into readiness. "Now who looks smug?" Jack asked as he stretched his arms languidly above his head. "Keep your arms there," Will told him as he began moving his hands once again all over Jack's body.  
  
"Mmm, I take it we're in no hurry," Jack commented.  
  
"None at all," Will responded, "Why hurry when you are loving this so much?"  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"Are you kidding?" Will asked. "Do you know how it makes me feel to see you this way?" "What way?"  
  
"Completely and utterly relaxed. Totally involved in the moment. Open, and, " he paused, somewhat nervously, "vulnerable?" To his astonishment, Jack's suddenly open eyes were not guarded. With some trepidation he continued, "Do you know how thrilled I am that I found the key? That you love this kind of touching?"  
  
"That's not quite it, Will."  
  
"It's not?" Will asked in confusion.  
  
"No, it's that it's YOU doing the touching." They shared a smile and a moment of total connection.  
  
"Well, if that's the case, just close your eyes again and let me get back to it." Leaning down, Will captured that mouth he both loved and craved with his own and gradually increased the passion in the kiss until both men were beginning to pant. Breaking it off, he rested his forehead against Jack's for a moment, and then reoiled his fingertips. Will wondered, was he going too far? Francie had warned him not to push Jack too hard, that this whole relationship was a huge step for him in so many ways. Was he asking for too much, too much honesty? But, Will was afraid that time was not on their side. Every day had so many dangers and tomorrow brought added dangers. If not now, when?  
  
He began inching his way back down Jack's body with his mouth and fingers, interspersing both so that Jack would have trouble telling the difference. Will was himself startled when Jack started up, "Will, no!" Pressing back on Jack's hip, he raised his head and moved up Jack's body. "Jack. No. Lie back down."  
  
"No, I can't let you."  
  
"There's no'letting' me tonight, Jack. I want to do this. I will do this."  
  
Seeing Jack's mouth tighten, Will continued stroking him with one hand to distract him while saying softly, "I figured it out, finally."  
  
"What?" Jack said with an obvious attempt to concentrate.  
  
"Why you never wanted me to use my mouth. At first I thought it was just a control issue."  
  
"It is. Fine. I want to be the one in control."  
  
"That's not all of it, though, is it?" When Jack just tightened his lips, Will knew he was on the right track. "The larger issue is that streak of protectiveness in you that runs about a mile deep. You're worried that if I use my mouth, that I'll be comparing this to Taipei." The words fell like lead onto the bed. Wisely, Will stopped touching Jack for a moment and used his hands to frame Jack's face. Giving the rigid mouth a gentle kiss, Will pulled back and said, "I'm right. And that's why, you had it all planned out, didn't you? The strategy. You always have one. The first time we were together you made sure some lights were on and I could see YOU and you made sure I was standing, rather than sitting. And you, the way you used your mouth, that was a gift, that wasn't taking. You did all that to make it as different as possible, so I wouldn't be afraid. Because even then, you loved me."  
  
When Jack just stared at him in shock, Will smiled happily. "I've rendered you speechless. But what you need to know, what I should have told you that night, was - remember that time you offered to reset my memories of Taipei for me? - was that the way you were touching me, the fact that you loved me -- you did reset my memories. What happened on that plane - it no longer has any power over me and in fact, from the moment I first told you about it, it lost its hold on me. And then that night? Aside from that fleeting, liberating thought? Taipei is gone, Jack, it has nothing to do with us. Nothing unless we let it. So, let me do what I want tonight."  
  
For long moments the two men stared at each other. Finally, he saw Jack relax and accept what he had told him. "I still don't know about the control issue, though," Jack said with a smile. "Am I going to regret telling you I love you, giving you that.."  
  
"Power, is that what you were going to say?" Will asked.  
  
"We're really being honest tonight, aren't we? You know how I feel about that," Jack said softly, half teasing, half serious.  
  
"I've never regretted being honest with you, being the one to speak first, let me remind you, at your little intervention," Will responded, "Never regretted anything that's happened with you and I never will."  
  
"Even with everything that has or might happen?"  
  
"Even so. Now, just lie there and ." Will trailed off as he applied his lips to his lover's. Jack reached up and held Will's head in place with both hands as he used his lips and tongue to take some control back by driving Will crazy. Lifting up slightly at one point, Will murmured, "God, I love your mouth, Jack" and bit Jack's lower lip before the older man took over again. Finally, Will felt slightly dizzy and lifted his head. "Now, just lie back. Trust me enough to give up your control. Trust me." They stared at each other for a moment and Will felt his breath catch when Jack stretched his arms out back over his head.  
  
"Oh, God," Jack whispered as he pulled Will back up his body so that they were lying face to face. Will kissed Jack's neck and murmured, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" and smiled when he felt, more than heard, Jack's chuckle. Levering himself up on his right elbow so that he was leaning over Jack's body, he said quietly, "Jack, look at me." When Jack's lambent gray gaze met his, he continued, "You know, we're not done yet." Making Will's breath stop with a sexy grin, Jack responded, "Um, I think I know that, I think I can feel that," and reached his own hand down to fondle Will.  
  
"No, stop for a minute. Look at me. I want you to do something else."  
  
"What's left?"  
  
With his left hand, Will cupped Jack's cheek. Softly, softly he said, "Surrender. That's what's left. Surrender yourself to me." He felt Jack's jaw tighten, as he asked with great and customary caution, "What do you mean?"  
  
"I surrendered everything to you that first night - that night I confessed my feelings to you, here in this house, during that little intervention. You know that. And then later, wasn't I the one to pursue you? The one to tell you how I felt, force you to talk about those horrible things we mortals call emotions. And you know, you've always held something, the tiniest something back, even just now, you had to retain some measure of control.You held back."  
  
Jack interrupted, "Not sexually, you can't say that after what just happened."  
  
"No, I mean emotionally. Even now, there's a little something left. What we have, it can't be complete until we both give it all. Invite me. Ask me. I want it all."  
  
Staring into Will's eyes, Jack seemed to be searching for something. "What are you looking for, Jack? What do you see?" Will asked quietly. There was a long pause while he waited, waited.  
  
Finally, Jack said, "I see you. Your eyes are so open, I can see all of you right there." He paused again for a long moment before continuing, "Will, did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are? That sounds so..trite, but it's true. And how I love your neck, especially the back of it, and your shoulders and..."  
  
Anyone else might have thought that Jack was trying to distract him, Will thought, but those words caused him to melt inside because he knew what they meant. As Jack's hands lavished caresses on the areas he was praising, Will knew that those words were more than mere compliments from one lover to another. He was no fool, he knew which parts of his body Jack loved. He hadn't needed those words in order to have that information. It was the act of verbalization that was critical because Jack knew, knew how words and truth equaled power.  
  
A surge of tenderness and lust swept over him and he leaned over to stop Jack's words with his mouth. "I love you. And you are mine."  
  
"Yes," Jack took a deep breath and opened his legs a little wider. "Yes, you are mine and I am yours. Fill me."  
  
"That was intense," Jack said quietly as he caught his breath. "I never-" Will began. "I never knew..." he trailed off, before Jack agreed, "I didn't either. I understand now what you were talking about when you said the word 'complete' and I--," Jack's whisper broke off. Lying there quietly next to his lover, Will knew Jack was no doubt embarrassed at the display of emotion this night. Waiting a moment, Will said quietly and sincerely, "Thank you." Jack stared at him for a long moment before asking, "For...?"  
  
Will grinned, "Good try, Bristow. But you're not going to get me to fill in the blanks for you."  
  
Jack's mouth quirked. "You know too much about my interrogation style, don't you?"  
  
"Having been on the receiving end of it more times than I care to think? Yeah. But, this time, you need to fill in the blanks for yourself. Why do you think I was thanking you?"  
  
Jack smirked, "For being the bottom this time?"  
  
Will burst out laughing. "Good try. Safe, but not too safe, is that what you were thinking - admitting the control issue again?" He watched Jack's face twist in consternation and laughed. Laughed happily because he could not really believe how Jack was letting his unguarded emotions show. "Not that I didn't appreciate your sacrifice," he said with sarcasm. "And I hope you'll let me have the privilege a little more often now than in the past. Maybe once a month and on my birthday?" he said teasingly.  
  
Jack gave a self-deprecatory smile, "Or national holidays?"  
  
"Maybe we can continue negotiating?"  
  
"You can always try," Jack said smugly.  
  
"Yes I can. As long as I keep the massage oil well stocked, choose the right music and amount of lighting, keep you supplied with whiskey and..more fully investigate the possibilities of that decadent shower bath," he said as he motioned with his head toward the direction of the master bathroom and watched Jack's eyes darken. "Hmm, I see I may have found another weakness," and kissed Jack again. "Don't worry, it's not like I don't know that tomorrow I'll be bent over the table again. Or on my back somewhere."  
  
"Do you have any objections to that?"  
  
"Do I ever?"  
  
"And, what's this about tomorrow - are you trying to insult me?" Jack asked with a grin.  
  
"Well, old man," Will began with a grin of his own before Jack rolled him over and beneath him. Suddenly Will's stomach rumbled and they both broke into laughter. "You're saved, grasshopper, let's clean up and have dinner.  
  
In the shower, Jack had a faraway look. Will said, "It's my turn to ask, what are you thinking?"  
  
"Two things, or maybe one. We never finished talking about for what you were thanking me before."  
  
"No, we didn't. What are you thinking?"  
  
"It's interesting, isn't it, that I use my body to-"  
  
"You use your body to encourage my surrender?"  
  
"Yes. The physical leading to the emotional?" "Whereas I -", Will began and Jack completed the thought, "You used the emotional to lead to the physical. It's all just a circle isn't it? To obtain the same thing?"  
  
Will thought for a moment and then said softly, "Freedom? Is that what we obtained?"  
  
"Freedom," Jack said thoughtfully.  
  
"And tonight - you were ready?" Will asked.  
  
"And that's what you were thanking me for? It's the trust, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, trust is, in the end, everything."  
  
"I always did trust you, Will, always."  
  
"I know you did, you trusted me with your heart, with your body and probably, if you had to, your life. But you didn't trust anyone, til tonight, with your vulnerability. And somehow, tonight, that massage, that touching."  
  
"Truthfully, it was that, and you forcing the issue, as usual," Jack pointed out wryly. Then finished by saying, "I think I had just reached a critical point in everything that's going on and in my own mind, realizing that there was no reason to hold back anymore, that life is too short, it was time to complete the circle."  
  
"It was time."  
  
"Yes, it's time. It's always the timing."  
  
Chapter 34: "An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind." (Buddha)  
  
"Sloane invited me to a private lunch today, Dad. Any ideas why?" Syd asked her father. Jack looked up at Sydney poised over his desk, his eyes guarded. Was there a slight hesitation, before he said, "No. But keep in mind that that one of Arvin's common motives in seeing you alone has always been to drive a wedge between the two of us." "You're right. I'll keep that in mind," Syd promised as she watched her father's eyes grow even more troubled.  
  
Sydney attempted to remember her promise as her mind goggled at what Sloane had just asked her. "What do I think of my father's relationship with my friend, Will Tippin? I don't understand what you mean by that, why you stressed the word 'relationship' that way," she said cautiously.  
  
"Sydney, Sydney, don't tell me I'm the one to break the news to you? I only wanted to be a shoulder for you to lean on, if you needed it and I here I have to tell you.I'm sorry, I thought you knew or at least had an idea why your father has been so different lately."  
  
"I still don't know what you mean," she said stubbornly. If Sloane was saying he was sorry about something, that meant she needed to be on her toes and make sure she gave away nothing.  
  
"Take a deep breath for me. Good. Now, stay calm. But your father and Tippin have been lovers, for want of a better word, for months now."  
  
"No, no. Neither of them are gay, first of all. That's ridiculous, the whole idea is ridiculous."  
  
"Is it? Think about it. Hasn't your father seemed different, more relaxed? Happy, even? Since when is Jack Bristow like that? I haven't seen him like that since before your mother betrayed him. Think, Sydney. He and Tippin have been living together for how long, after all, six months?"  
  
"Francie said," she murmured to herself." "Francie - your roommate - said what?" Careful, Syd, this was clearly a fishing expedition right now. "She was trying to tell me something. But it's not true. They are really good friends, best friends, but that's why Dad is happier -- he has someone to hang out with, relax with - that's all. You're wrong."  
  
"I was afraid you'd refuse to believe the truth. I hesitate to do this" (yeah, right, she thought), "but here's proof." He handed over a manila envelope, labeled "Bristow-Tippin surveillance". Sydney opened it to a spill of black and white photographs of her father and Will. The top one was of the four of them at that Hollywood Bowl concert. The next was a closeup, clearly at the concert, of Will leaning in to say something into Jack's ear, with his hand resting on top of Jack's. "This is nothing, nothing. I probably do the same thing to my friends too. Big deal." She shrugged, not seeing the point.  
  
"Keep going, they are in chronological order." He looked over, "Well, they were. Internal Security is populated mostly by idiots."  
  
There was a photo of Will and Jack at some restaurant, smiling at each other. "So what?" Sydney challenged, while thinking silently that the look of warmth on her father's face was astonishing. "You see what I mean, Sydney, the look on his face?" Sloane did know her father, she thought with a rising feeling of panic.  
  
The next one was of her father and Will shopping for clothes. "I was with them. Will had lost a lot of his clothes in the move" (no way was she going to admit that Jack had deliberately thrown out Will's corduroys) "and the three of us went shopping for new clothes. I was there, nothing happened."  
  
"Look at the next one." That showed Will's surprised face and Jack's laughing visage in the moment after Jack had apparently patted Will on the butt. Inadvertently, Syd began to smile at the photo. "I remember that - the pants were too tight, that's all," Sydney protested although she had not witnessed the moment the photo depicted. "Yes, surveillance said you were there, but had gone off to get a different size for Will. This happened while you were out of sight." She reached out an index finger and gently touched her father's happy face in the photo.  
  
"Keep going. The next one? Honestly, Sydney. Jack Bristow singing in a karaoke bar? If that's not a sign of, I don't know, the impending apocalypse or a nervous breakdown, then...."  
  
Without thinking, Sydney flipped past that photo to the next one and caught her breath. Somehow the photographer, an SD6 hack, had captured a moment of stark intimacy, one that Sydney felt embarrassed to witness, and angered, no infuriated, that Sloan had not only seen, copied, and yes, looking up at him, gloated over. The black and white photograph had caught the moment of a kiss right before the lips touch, when each person's head knows the optimum angle, when the eyes are open with delight, when the smile on the lips shows all the excited anticipation of touching a loved one. Will's hand was on the back of Jack's neck pulling him closer. All of what they felt for each other, and she knew now seeing the photo that there was no word other than love to describe it, was written on their faces. Under normal circumstances she might have thought merely that it was a beautiful portrait, the kind a couple would want to keep. But under these circumstances, she was incensed that anyone had been watching and stealing that moment from them. It was a closeup, so she could not tell where they had been, although her father would have never engaged in such intimate behavior had he thought he was being observed. She said as much to Sloane and added in her anger, "Apparently the Security Section is improving if my father didn't realize..."  
  
Sloane cut her off, "No. Internal Security is still a personnel problem, which proves my point. The fact that Jack Bristow, formerly the most suspicious and careful of any operative I have ever met, slipped his guard enough to allow any of these photos, but especially that last one, to be taken is a problem. The fact that he is engaged in an alternative lifestyle is a matter of debate in terms of being a security problem. But the fact that he is engaging in that behavior with a person known to be hostile to SD6 and someone already tagged as a security risk, someone Jack argued against terminating more than a year ago on the basis of Tippin's relationship with YOU, well, Sydney, all of those issues are impossible to ignore. The risk management team and the powers that be are not going to ignore those issues in my second in command, no matter how many years of friendship lie between us. The fact that he ignored my earlier warnings and apparently did not consider the risk to his position and mine is shocking. Perhaps he is happy, but he's not going to be effective much longer if he continues on this path. I am going to have to start questioning his judgment.in all areas, Sydney." As she had been expecting from the moment she saw the label, here was the threat.  
  
"Just what are you saying and why tell me? Why not go directly to my father?" she gritted out.  
  
"He did ignore my first warnings, when I was not sure, he probably was not even sure, where his relationship with Tippin was going. Even though we've known each other for thirty years, this type of...indiscretion... makes me uncomfortable. For the sake of our friendship, I'd rather you talked to him. I'm hoping this is a temporary midlife crisis situation." Oh this was rich. He was uncomfortable with the idea of Jack and Will together, but allowing countless people to be tortured and possibly killed, that was not a problem? Compartmentalize, Syd. Quickly.  
  
"I know you are in shock, Sydney, but as a favor to me - I've always seen myself as your surrogate father and you as the daughter I never had" Could she gag right now? "- Please tell your father that he needs to demonstrate where his loyalties are."  
  
"What, exactly, does that mean?"  
  
"I am uncomfortable spelling this out."  
  
"Spell it out. I mean, those photos are really a big nothing, especially to people of my generation."  
  
"Ah, but the men and women in charge of our section, in charge of the Alliance, are people from my generation and older, who have different views on the matter. And if all we had were those photos, that would be one problem. But then, there are the tapes."  
  
"The tapes, what tapes, you didn't show me any tapes."  
  
"They are audio tapes, and no child wants to hear their parents in those situations. Sydney, I would not want to make you uncomfortable hearing them. It was bad enough for me." You goddamn voyeur, I bet you listened to them all, several times over. She wanted to retch. Compartmentalize, faster. "These audios - where were they from? At least tell me that. At least give my father something for all these years of loyalty."  
  
Sloane considered her request and appeared to enjoy his largesse as he said, "From Will's apartment. We replaced the bug killer Jack had apparently installed with a dummy." Now, she really wanted to scream. They had been in Will's apartment? No wonder her father had Will move in with him. He must have had some suspicions. Sloane continued, "So, please, in return consider my request that you talk with your father. He needs to stop this behavior, prove that Tippin means nothing. I don't want to lose your father. He knows too much to be considered expendable." He let the words drop into the silence, the threat unmistakable.  
  
Sydney stood up. "I'm assuming we're done."  
  
"But you haven't eaten yet," Sloane protested.  
  
"I have lost my appetite."  
  
"Sydney, sit down, I can see you're upset. I don't want you to go away like this." His paternal concern was just so touching, wasn't it?  
  
"I really have to go," she said with a reasonable facsimile of a sob and stumbled away.  
  
"Wait." She stopped. Sloane continued, "One last warning for your father, to prove I am not faking it, that we do have the tapes. Tell him that I never knew a man could spend so much time on his knees outside of a church." 


	4. Chapters 35 thru 48 Checkmate

Chapter 35: "All truth passes through three stages. First it is ridiculed. Second it is violently opposed. Third it is accepted as being self- evident." (Arthur Schopenhauer)  
  
"I really should not have been so squeamish about killing him a year ago," Sydney said to her father an hour later.  
  
"Which leads me to a question," Will said, "Why haven't you killed him, Jack? Over the years there must have been plenty of opportunities."  
  
"Even after all my years doing dirty work, I still don't take killing someone lightly. Nonetheless, the reason for waiting has been to set up the strategy properly."  
  
"Well, Dad, how is this threat going to fit into that strategy? His goal is to make sure you are the one who's killed, not him. He said you know too much."  
  
"He's not going to kill me Syd. And he's not going to kill you or Will. I know too much in ways that makes me too valuable. Also, Sloane still thinks of me as his friend, probably his only friend. Not that I'd bet my life on that piece of sentimentality. But you and Will are too valuable as hostages for my compliance. But, Syd, think about this, use some game theory here? Why do you think this has come up now? What is it that Sloane wants me to really do? Thank about it."  
  
Jack pulled out his laptop. Syd tried to answer her father's questions, but she was really reflecting on the last hour. She had left the restaurant and immediately called her father and asked him to meet her at her place. When she arrived, Will was already there, ensconced at her kitchen counter eating, of course. Without saying a word, she went over to the lamp and replaced the bug killer there with a brand new version she had just gotten, no questions asked, from Weiss 15 minutes before. She was glad Vaughn had been out; he would have asked questions.  
  
"Hey, Syd, what's up? Why are you home in the middle of the day?" Will asked without looking up from his Captain Crunch. When she did not answer, he glanced up and immediately stood, "Syd, what's wrong? Your face is bone white. Sit down."  
  
"No, I need to stand, I need to pace."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I need to wait for my father to get here."  
  
"Okay, we'll wait," and he sat back down and finished his bowl. "You're amazing, Will, you know that? Here you sit eating some dumb kids' cereal and..."  
  
"Whoa, you're clearly mad about something. You're mad at me?"  
  
"At you and -" And her father walked in. "I am mad at the two of you!", she yelled before he even had the door closed.  
  
"Syd, sit down. You look like you're about to fall down," Jack said as he walked swiftly over. "What's the matter? What did Sloane say or do?" "Oh no, this has to do with that scum?" Will asked. Jack gently placed his hand on Syd's shoulders and urged her to sit on the couch.  
  
"What's wrong? What did Sloane do?" Syd demanded as she opened her tote. "He threatened you, Dad, well, really both of you. Why? This is why!" and she opened the envelope and spilled the contents out on the coffee table. Her lip quivered as she watched the two gingerly reach out and examine the photos. "Why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to find out from Sloane? There I was, in total shock, saying you two were just friends, that you weren't having that kind of relationship, and he was gloating, just waiting to spring this on me."  
  
Jack protested, "Syd, honey, we weren't trying to keep it a big secret from you."  
  
"I guess not, Francie knows doesn't she? She's been trying to tell me, hasn't she?"  
  
"You'll have to ask her that," Will said. "As for us, I mean, you were being deliberately obtuse. You didn't want to know the truth. It's true that we didn't take out a billboard or leave a note on the fridge, but we haven't been hiding it from you. What did you think was happening when I moved into Jack's house?"  
  
"Or," her father added quietly, "Will's ring? Didn't you make a comment about him wearing it like a wedding ring?" She stared. It was true. On some level, she had known something was going on. But as they had accused her of long ago, with Vaughn, she had a habit of trying to ignore the truth. Oh, God, Vaughn had been hinting about it that day when she had stuffed him in the box. She was a blind fool. She admitted that to them and said, "Okay, we don't really have time to go into that and what I am thinking or feeling because I honestly don't know. We are in a situation here. The photos are the least of it." She told them of the tapes and watched Will blanch although her father, of course, never even blinked. Then she told them of Sloane's threat and they had begun assessing the time frame of the threat.  
  
Francie walked in. There was no time to hide the photos or rearrange their faces. "Who died?" Francie asked as she walked over. Looking down, she saw the photos and the label, "Bristow-Tippin surveillance." "Oh my God, what is this?" Jack, of course, recovered first. "It a blackmail threat, delivered via Sydney from my boss at work. Remember how I told you about the internal politics at my job and how I needed to keep my personal and business life completely separate?"  
  
"Yeah, but I never imagined that it could be this cutthroat, this nasty. To take pictures of you and then blackmail you? For what, a higher seat on the board, a bigger salary?"  
  
"Power, Francie, it's always about power. The blackmailer wants me in his power."  
  
"What are you going to do?"  
  
"We don't know, but we hope you understand how important it is that none of this ever leaves this room. Not to your mom, your dad, your siblings, not even to one of us unless we are in this apartment or at my house. And even then, not on any phone but mine or Syd's. Is that clear?"  
  
"Of course, of course."  
  
Sydney stood up. "I really need to think about all this, alone," she said and stalked off to her room. "No, you don't, Sydney Bristow" Francie called out and followed her into her room. The two men raised eyebrows at each other and moved closer to eavesdrop without compunction.  
  
"You're mad, aren't you, that you found out this way?" Francie asked.  
  
"Of course. Why didn't you just come out and tell me about my dad and Will instead of all those times you spent hinting around, allowing me to ignore it?"  
  
"Because, Syd, when it comes to your dad you have a lot of growing up to do"  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"For the last few years you've had him, basically, all to yourself. Then when he and Will became friends you were a little jealous. When they became more, I thought you would become ballistic about it, I mean, it's like anyone whose mother is replaced by someone else. Even though your mom's been dead for two decades, no kid wants their father to replace her. Especially when the replacement is your age, your friend. But when the father is relatively new in your life, and too, no one knew how you would feel about their type of relationship."  
  
"Are you done?"  
  
"Yes, yes, I am. But I thought it would be better, we all thought it would be better if you discovered it on your own, gradually, rather than being shocked."  
  
"Well, that was certainly easier for you all. Rather than having a messy scene, you just wait for the light bulb to go on."  
  
"Syd, stop it." Will said from the doorway, Jack standing behind him. "It was certainly not easier. Not for me or Jack. While we weren't trying to hide it, nor are either of us the type to flaunt it, it's always easier to just be open. Well, at least that's me. And maybe we made a mistake, maybe we should have come right out and told you, but we had some issues of our own to work out, just like any new relationship, we didn't need fallout from you."  
  
"And us, Will? What does this make us?"  
  
"What ARE you talking about?" Will asked impatiently. He reminded her of her father in that moment.  
  
"I thought we were friends, but now, what are you - my stepfather or something?" Jack opened his mouth, but before he could no doubt blister Sydney's ears, Will elbowed him. "Get a grip. We are friends, none of this changes that."  
  
"Oh really? Then what was it about that day in the alley? At the time I was astonished by how you were carrying on - almost like a parent yelling at a kid. Is that how you see yourself now?" Syd accused.  
  
Will crossed his arms over his chest. "Then and now I see you acting like a spoiled brat. A friend is allowed to tell you that. Whining about wanting a relationship with your father, but not being willing to meet him halfway. And you know I was right - or else you wouldn't have changed your ways after that fight in the alley."  
  
Jack interjected, "You two had a fight in some alley?"  
  
"Yeah, that was right before she asked us to the Hollywood Bowl and started to-"  
  
"She and I started to have a relationship," Jack said flatly. Without saying anything else, Jack reached out and clasped Will's left upper arm with his left hand. Syd saw him give it a squeeze and then rub his thumb along the inner edge of Will's bicep. Still glaring at Syd, Will reached back and patted Jack's hand. She sucked in a small breath. The very nonchalance of those quick gestures was more telling, in some ways, than those photographs. In that casual moment, she saw a history, the kind of love and trust built up over time that allowed one of them to say, "Thank you" and the other to say, "You're welcome" with no words whatsoever. She WAS a fool who needed to grow up. Fast.  
  
Jack interrupted her thoughts impatiently, "We don't have time for this right now and I don't intend to defend myself or Will or our relationship here. What I would like right now, is for you to support me as I figure out how to handle the threat."  
  
Sydney stared silently at her father. Did he really think she wouldn't support him? "Of course, Dad. What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Tell my boss that you delivered the package and information and I am considering his terms. But wait until he calls you. Let him sweat a little."  
  
Francie asked, "Jack, what is his name? Just in case he ever calls here or tries to pump me for info?"  
  
"Sloane, Arvin Sloane."  
  
"This is just too nasty. Haven't I been telling both of you for years to get new jobs?"  
  
"Yes, Francie," Jack and Syd said together. Jack spoke up, "Francie, Will, can you go make some coffee? I need to talk to Syd alone."  
  
When Will and Francie left, Jack sat down next to Syd and stared at his hands. Slowly, she reached out and took one of his in hers. "Dad, you know what? Aside from the little blackmail problem," and they gave each other a small smile, "I'm glad for you. Francie and I have been saying how you two are good for each other."  
  
"Thank you. But, back to business." They both sighed.  
  
"I don't want you to tell Vaughn or anyone else about this yet."  
  
"But, Dad. He would want to help."  
  
"No, I want you to promise me this. We will tell him eventually, but not just yet. It's safer for him and truly, I don't want to deal with his lapses into bourgeois morality right now. Will you promise me?"  
  
Searching his eyes, she saw only confidence. "You're sure that Will and you are not in any real danger?"  
  
"I know how to contain it. I've been preparing. I've been afraid.."  
  
"You've been afraid that something like this might happen?" Syd prompted.  
  
"Yes, that's why at first I tried to resist."  
  
She tightened her lips in consternation, but then said, "But Will is like an immovable force when he gets his mind set on something, isn't he? He's changed lately, he's more cautious, more concerned about consequences.That's because you told him about the danger, didn't you?"  
  
Jack shook his head. "First, give Will a little credit of his own-- you can't go through what he did in Taipei without learning from it. Yes, I was trying to make him see why this wasn't a good idea. But.he said it was his choice. And the last few months of my life.."  
  
"But now you have to protect him, don't you?" "Yes." "Oh, Dad," she murmured in sympathy and laid her head on his shoulder.  
  
Chapter 36: "Most games are lost, not won." Casey Stengel  
  
"Sydney," came Sloane's falsely-sympathetic voice two days later. "It's been 48 hours. You've called in sick and your father is nowhere in sight. What's going on? What did Jack say?"  
  
"He said he wanted to meet with you. He wants to know what you really want."  
  
"What I really want? I want him to give up this high-risk relationship, Sydney, that's all. It was just a friendly warning."  
  
"Humph."  
  
"You sound like Jack."  
  
"Really? I'll take that as a compliment. He said he'll meet you at this location," she reeled off an address, "Today at 4pm. Take it or leave it. Oh and Arvin? He said to tell you that there's no such thing as a completely-secure email server."  
  
Chapter 37: "Why not go out on a limb? Isn't that where the fruit is?" (Frank Scully)  
  
3pm. "Syd, you seem preoccupied. Again," Vaughn commented. Jack Bristow had sent him a voice mail asking him to set up a meet with Sydney this afternoon, telling Vaughn he was concerned about her next mission, due to begin that night. Vaughn could see Jack's point -- her face had been white and drawn when she arrived. He had asked her if something was wrong and she had ignored the question and just wanted to get down to business. He kept pressing because she was so distracted, he was becoming concerned. Finally, she grew exasperated at his incessant questioning. Ah, success, he thought as she began to speak. Sydney wanted to swear loudly, in fact her mouth had opened to do just that when she stopped. Vaughn was too perceptive and too persistent, she had to say something. If her father even now wasn't getting ready to meet with Sloane, she might have been better able to hide her concern. Would he even survive the meeting?  
  
"Well, again, it's my dad," Syd admitted, thinking she had to tell him something, something close to the truth.  
  
Vaughn said nothing. After all, he was thinking, with Jack Bristow, it might be anything, anything at all. Had he killed another CIA agent, told a joke, blown up a building in a foreign country, worn a red sweater, started crafting C4 necklaces in his basement workshop, sung the theme song from Carousel in a karaoke bar? Who knew? The man was totally unpredictable.  
  
Syd blurted out, "Did you have any idea that my dad and Will were involved? What did I say? I shouldn't have said that. Why would you have any idea? Forget I said it. He'll kill me. No one can know. Don't tell anyone."  
  
Vaughn laughed at how frantic she was. "Shh, Syd. I won't tell anyone. It's no one's business. And I certainly don't intend to EVER have any conversation whatsoever with Jack Bristow about his love life."  
  
"You don't seem surprised." "Well, no." She moaned, "I must be the last person in LA to know."  
  
"Come on, I would be surprised if more than you and Francie and I know. Your father is the most discreet and private person I know."  
  
She swallowed hard to keep from screaming the truth and asked instead, "But then, how did you know? Just from that brunch?"  
  
"Yeah. It was Will. His behavior, the way he doted on Jack, the way he looked at Jack, the way Jack let Will touch him on the shoulder or hand. He's kind of touchy feely, isn't he? That and the fact that your father did not crush him for the teasing him about his clothes."  
  
"Touchy feely?"  
  
"You know what I mean."  
  
"Yeah, I do," Syd said with a small smile. Good, he thought she was smiling; she might not be when he asked the next question.  
  
"Syd, were you upset when you walked in here today because this is the first time, ostensibly since you lost your mom, that your dad has been involved with someone?"  
  
She stared at him. "No. But you're right, this is the first time that I've known of."  
  
"Well, of course, that you've known of. Jack plays his cards so close to his chest that he could have been involved with who knows how many people and no one would have ever known." She just kept looking at him.  
  
"Are you jealous?"  
  
She shook herself out of her stupor. "Jealous? What's next?" she laughed, "Am I supposed to feel like this is the death knell to my hopes that my parents might get back together?"  
  
Vaughn said softly, "I know the Bristows are somewhat."  
  
Sydney laughed, "The word for which you are searching is dysfunctional, but that's just being polite. Even if my father could forgive Irina for what she's done to him and me and maybe he could - of all people he understands what it's like to be so deep in the game - the betrayal was too deep, the results too scarring. It could never be the same. You know, I honestly don't know if he's been involved, emotionally, with anyone since her. And I can't imagine just how lonely he's been and how I've failed to see that. But, Irina, anyway, that's irrelevant - there's Will." She paused and smiled. "You know what - what I just said - that Irina is irrelevant, I just realized, she is irrelevant to my dad now, except insofar as she might affect the future. My dad's let go of the past."  
  
"So, is it, is it that he's involved with another man?" Vaughn asked gently.  
  
"No. Francie said it well, late last night when it was just the two of us talking. That she saw the two of them so inexplicably, drawn to each other, so slowly falling in love. And my dad, I see now, he's happy for the first time in twenty years.It's.And too they've changed each other, over time and they actually seem to have lots in common, in some odd way, but enough different to fill in the blanks in each other."  
  
"Well, they do have that meddling business in common," Vaughn interrupted with a roll of his eyes.  
  
"Yes, that they do. And that's not a small thing, a small aspect of their personalities. But it seems like together they kind of, I don't know, diminish each other's meddling?"  
  
"Because they can see it and its consequences in the other's actions? Especially Will - he seems like he's become so much more cautious, in some ways." "Maybe. Who knows?"  
  
"So it sounds like they are good for each other? That's what I saw that day. Jack was such a different person, in private anyway. I can't say he busts my chops any less at work," Vaughn smiled.  
  
Syd agreed, "You're right. That's why I think I was able to ignore it for so long."  
  
"So what's the problem?"  
  
She took a deep breath and chose her words with care. "I'm concerned about SD6. Sloane considers that Will is alive on his sufferance. If he found out that my dad and Will are involved, he would think that my dad has an exploitable weakness because of the nature of the relationship, the fact that SD6 considers Will a security risk, and simply the fact that my father has yet someone else he cares about that Sloane could use as a hostage for good behavior."  
  
Vaughn considered her concerns carefully. "Well, if it were anyone else but Jack Bristow, I would have the same concerns. But, Syd, your father is one of the best game players in the business. Although don't tell him I said so!" he quipped, trying to bring a smile to her face. No response, so he continued, "There is no way that he would ever give anything away. And although I saw how Will acted in private, I am sure that there is no way your dad would let Will get away with that in public. You've been out with them tons of times, did you ever see anything in public that made you wonder, looking back on it?"  
  
"No," Syd said thoughtfully looking into the distance. A crease was forming between her brows.  
  
Vaughn was still speaking, "I am sure Jack would impress upon Will the importance of--"  
  
"You mean he'd scare the shit out of him," Syd interrupted.  
  
Vaughn barked out a laugh. "Yeah. That about describes it. And really, if your dad wants something from Will, he'd get it. I saw how Will adores your father; he'd do anything for him. And your father - how he was smiling and enjoying life that day - he'd never do anything to jeopardize that relationship. Honestly, I was envious watching the two of them."  
  
Sydney ignored the last statement, "You saw all that?"  
  
"Yes. And Syd, don't worry too much. First of all, your father - you know how protective he is - he would never take risks with the people he cares about, with you or Will. Especially Will, because he's not trained, he's not a professional. The risks would be too great and one thing your father can and probably does do in his sleep is calculate risks. Your father knows what he's doing, security wise. I'm sure he scans the house every time he walks in, scans the cars, their clothing, doesn't do anything without looking over his shoulder twice, and would never do anything in public that would give cause for suspicion." Syd's head jerked up, but Vaughn did not notice as he quipped to try and make her smile, "Well, aside from the karaoke bar incident, which he could always blame on drinking." Still no laugh, he was batting zip today. Sigh. "My one concern would be having Will move in with him," Vaughn continued. "Although..."  
  
"Although what?"  
  
"If your father found out that, somehow, Sloane knew about Will and Jack's relationship, isn't Will safer in that house than in an apartment? Do you know if Sloane had ever talked with Jack about Will?" Syd compressed her lips.  
  
Looking down, he had missed Syd's shock of recognition when he detailed all the reasons why her father would never get caught when he had the power to control how much information anyone could get about that relationship. Her father had not realized the bug killer in Will's apartment was a dummy? No way, she thought slowly. He had patted Will on the butt in public? Wait a minute. He had let Will kiss him outdoors? Uh-huh. Her father, the greatest games player she had ever known (with the possible exception of her mother), would never have allowed these risks. Unless.... he thought the risks were small enough to justify....the benefits. Just what was her father up to and how deep was Will in this game? It's game theory, she realized. Just what was the game?  
  
Chapter 38: "You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play it better than anyone else." (Diane Feinstein)  
  
"Vaughn, what did you want? I really need to go." What had he said that set Syd off, Vaughn wondered, she was champing at the bit to get out of there now. "  
  
Well," he said slowly, "I wanted to go over tonight's mission. But I also wanted to ask you if you knew that Sloane and Sark have been communicating? We have reliable intel."  
  
"WHAT??" Syd nearly shrieked. "I thought he was out of the picture. Does my father know, did you tell him?"  
  
"I told him."  
  
Her mind made a leap. "Did he know BEFORE you told him?"  
  
"He said he was not aware of the intel I possessed."  
  
She stared at him and said sarcastically, "Well, isn't that a nice ambiguous answer."  
  
"What do you mean?" Vaughn's forehead wrinkled as he realized."Damn it. He got me. If he knew some other way, he wouldn't be lying when he said that to me. Although since when your father would hesitate to lie to me, I can't imagine."  
  
They stared at each other and Syd slammed her hand against the chain links, "Wait a minute. Where did you get this intel on Sark?"  
  
"From Analysis." Syd stared at him, "From exactly whose desk in Analysis?"  
  
"Why? What does it matter?"  
  
"Where does Will work, Vaughn?"  
  
Vaughn opened his phone and dialed. In a few minutes, he flipped the phone closed and looked up with shock on his face. "Tippin's desk. Apparently, he id'd Sark a long time ago at Alliance headquarters and his supervisor ignored it because all he had to go on was his memory of Sark's hands. So."  
  
"So, he told my father. That's why my father flipped out on the two of us about a year ago, maybe eleven months ago, for talking about work with each other. Shit. Total and complete shit. I wonder.""  
  
"What the hell is going on?" They stared at each other. Vaughn held up his hand. "Wait a minute. I got beeped. It's Weiss."  
  
He flipped open his phone, "Hey-" Weiss cut him off, yelling, "Get your butt and Syd's over here. NOW. It's going down."  
  
"What going down?" Vaughn asked harshly while Syd looked on curiously.  
  
"SD6 or Sloane, I'm not sure. Jack, he's set something up. He's on his way to meet with Sloane and Devlin said -- nothing much actually. Only Devlin knows exactly what's going on. Just get over here. NOW."  
  
Staring in shock at his phone, Vaughn slowly looked up. "Syd, is there something you want to tell me? Something about your dad? Something you've withheld?" Watching her face assume the mask as she looked at her watch and gasped, he growled, "You can tell me on the way to the Op Center. We'll take one car. That was Weiss, Jack has set up something big." As they both sprinted toward the exit, Syd called out, "Set up? He's the one being blackmailed." Vaughn looked at her in shock as he called out, "Blackmail? Just when were you-"  
  
Her phone beeped and she glanced down. Seeing the word "Jack" on the display, she halted, almost falling onto the pavement in her haste to stop her momentum. "No, wait," she gasped, "It's my dad."  
  
"Syd, where are you?" "Warehouse," she panted out. "Is Vaughn with you?" "Yes, Dad, what-"  
  
"Don't move. I want the two of you to stay there until I tell you otherwise. Odds are we'll need you there. You both need to find a place to hide. Don't leave, though. There are bulletproofs, extra guns and rounds in this spot." He reeled off a location and continued, "Don't DO anything until I get there. Unless you think they would really kill him."  
  
"Kill who, Dad, WHO?"  
  
"Will, who else?"  
  
"WILL? And who is 'they'?"  
  
"Sloane and Sark, although you won't recognize Sark. Syd, I really have to go for the set up. Don't worry, it's all under control. Your own guards will show up as soon as the set up is done. And Will is really in no danger. I'm just being overly cautious. Love you. Bye." And he hung up.  
  
Vaughn asked harshly, "What the hell was that about?"  
  
Sydney began running back toward the facility, telling Vaughn to follow. They made their way to the area Jack indicated and of course, the supplies were there, as promised. Syd reiterated her conversation with Jack to Vaughn and watched his features contort with anger. "What the HELL? Our own guards? What the hell is going on?"  
  
"I don't really know. I don't," she repeated when he gave her a look of disbelief. "All I knew is that Sloane was blackmailing my father over his relationship with Will. Dad made me promise not to tell, he said it was a private matter between him and Sloane. I never knew what Sloane wanted in return for not telling the Alliance about him having an affair with an identified risk. My dad would only ever say, power. Just power."  
  
Vaughn put down his equipment, "I'm calling the Op Center." He motioned Sydney over and they both listened as Weiss answered. "Sean, it's Mike. Just what's going on? Jack called and said-"  
  
"Yeah, you guys are to stay put. Your guards will be there after the meet. Jack's orders."  
  
"Jack's orders? What about Kendall?"  
  
Weiss burst out laughing. "You missed the best scene ever. It was great, Devlin waltzes in and in front of God and everyone tells Kendall that Bristow has been working some deep plan for nearly a year and it's all coming down right now. And Kendall sputters out how he wasn't even supposed to be here today, he was supposed to be on vacation and doesn't he have operational authority?"  
  
"Yeah, I get the picture, blah, blah, blah, Kendall had a cow. Go on."  
  
Weiss was still laughing, "So Devlin says, 'Well, Kendall, not today. Bristow, Jack Bristow, has total and complete operational authority today and until the end. Everything's in place.' I thought Kendall's bald head was going to friggin' explode. It was--"  
  
"Wait a minute," Vaughn interrupted, "'The end?' What does that mean?"  
  
"Who knows?" Weiss answered. "If I could imagine what Jack Bristow has set up, I would not be a lowly peon hanging on to the glory of your and Syd's coattails, now would I?" Syd giggled. Vaughn gave her a dirty look.  
  
"Listen, you guys, I'm going to patch you through to Jack's com unit. I'm sure you'll want to listen."  
  
"Who's in his ear? I am the case officer. Why am I not the one in Jack's ear?" Vaughn demanded. "Devlin's in Jack's ear. I think he supercedes you, Mike. I guess it's set to go down, what Jack called 'step 284,987 or check', in about ten minutes."  
  
Vaughn echoed, "Check?"  
  
Syd said, "Check as in checkmate. Wait - Weiss? Do you know where my friend, Will Tippin, is? My dad said that we should wait here but not do anything unless Sloane and Sark really look like they are going to kill him."  
  
"Oh, yeah. Almost forgot. Tippin's the - what do you call it? - you know in chess when you set up a less powerful piece to distract the opponent from your strategy? I don't remember the term, but Tippin's what I would call the bait. I don't know where he is, exactly, but Jack does. Jack says not to worry. Anyway, listen, I gotta set up the com for you two. I'm out. Hee, you should see Kendall's face. This is great."  
  
"Jack says not to worry," Vaughn mimicked in a snide voice.  
  
Syd looked up at him in surprise. "Vaughn - what?"  
  
"How can you be so sanguine about this? Your dad is using Tippin for bait, like a pawn!"  
  
"He knows what he's doing, Vaughn. Come on, just get suited up. You just told me that my dad would never endanger Will."  
  
"But-"  
  
"But nothing. Has my father ever, ever deliberately put me in a position where I didn't have a chance?"  
  
"You are a professional, Will is not."  
  
"True, but living with my father for the last six months was probably quite an education."  
  
"I cannot believe you. Don't you have any doubts, any worries?"  
  
"Shh, here's the set up," Syd whispered as she heard her father say, calmly in a lighthearted conversational tone, "Well, here we go. This should be fun." Syd thought that around the Op Center there were a bunch of agents all whispering incredulously, "Fun? Is he nuts?"  
  
Chapter 39: "Don't play this piece fast, it's never right to play ragtime fast." (Scott Joplin)  
  
"So, Jack, I regret after thirty years, it's come to this," Sloane said as he pleated his napkin in the jazz club Jack had specified for the meet.  
  
"Come to what?" Jack asked calmly as he signaled the waiter for a drink. "What exactly is the issue, Arvin, do tell."  
  
"Jack, I am somewhat stunned at your.casual attitude. I think I've made it clear that your position and, therefore, your life, is in danger because of your relationship with Mr. Tippin. And if you don't care about yourself, I am shocked you would be that reckless with his safety."  
  
"Ah yes, the classic Sloane technique - move onto to threatening loved ones, family members. You've used it so effectively over the years on me, threatening Sydney and the people in her life, haven't you? Is it any wonder you thought it would work again?"  
  
Sloane was nonplussed. "And why wouldn't it?"  
  
"Because the issue is not Mr. Tippin. That's a red herring. You and SD6 and the Alliance could care less about Will Tippin and whether or not I am sleeping with him as long as I do my job. You and Sark can take your photos and your tapes and shove them up both your asses and out your ears." Jack paused to savor the shock on Sloane's face and then continued venomously, "Oh yes, I do know about Sark, Arvin, all about him. And then there's Emily. But, topic? I could be screwing a donkey and a goat on alternate days for all any of you care. What is it you really care about? What happened three days ago that made the little blackmail scenario seem plausible? Why have you been warning me for months about my relationship with Tippin? Why do you care?"  
  
"They have nothing to do with each other."  
  
"Really? I am becoming impatient. Let me answer. Three days ago, Sark told you that both Syd and I are double agents. That makes us even more valuable to you, doesn't it, as long as you can control us? Or if you can't, that makes us even more dangerous? Depends upon how much we, I, know, doesn't it? Hard to tell, isn't it, Arvin?" He paused.  
  
"It was the email?"  
  
"Yes. It was pitifully easy for me to access the email Sark sent you telling you the news. Sloppy to have him still using the email address from his tenure at the Alliance. Made my work so much easier, though, gave me time to improvise. Thank you." He raised his glass in Arvin's direction.  
  
"Jack, I.I can't tell you how shocked I was when I learned that you've been a double for all these years. When Sark emailed me that you and Sydney both were CIA? I feel betrayed."  
  
"Do you? Good," Jack said with smugness designed to irritate.  
  
"Good? Jack, we've been best friends, colleagues, for most of our lives..."  
  
"But no one would ever come in the way of your goals, would they, Arvin?"  
  
"What do you mean?  
  
"I never labored under any delusions that we were truly friends." "I did." "Did you? You have a unique notion of friendship then." "What do you mean?"  
  
"Let's cut to the chase, here. You were willing to sell me, Syd, anyone, anyone at all to further your goals. The only exception was Emily. In a way, it's too bad," Jack sighed in mock dismay.  
  
"What's too bad?"  
  
"That when you were gaslighting yourself and pretending to be going insane, that you weren't. It's too bad that you didn't just go around that bend. Then none of this would be necessary. You'd be locked up nice and tight in some lovely facility. I lie awake imagining that sometimes, it's a good bedtime story to lull me to sleep. Perhaps that facility in Romania where Sydney had to undergo shock treatments while trying to rescue the man who had killed her fiancé on your orders? You remember that, don't you, Arvin? Or does all of that - killing Danny, sending Sydney out, unbeknownst to her, to save his murderer - just fade from memory? I mean, there is so much to remember, isn't there? Almost thirty years?"  
  
"You despise me," Sloane said flatly but with a sense of shock.  
  
"Despise you? That would be too mild a word. Also, too simple. Friends become enemies who betray and enemies become friends who save. And sometimes both. Nothing about this game, our lives, has been simple has it?"  
  
"And now, where are we? I am.lost."  
  
"Fortunately, I am not. I know exactly where I am, where you are. Near the end, Arvin, near the end. I think you've finally figured out what I have, what information I have acquired. Your Mr. Sark finally remembered exactly what he told me, doesn't he, when he was under my care in the hospital? That you and he had plans, big plans, his plans originally, to take over. That you two were involved, that he knew Emily was alive."  
  
"You knew he could remember."  
  
Jack shrugged. "Yes. But it would take regression therapy to do so. And you trusted him, so you wouldn't have done it. Until recently, correct? Until, what 3 days ago? When he told you something important, something critical he'd held back almost two years, the fact that I was a double, and you started to wonder what else was trapped in that little brain of his. And then--"  
  
"You were willing to take that risk? That I wouldn't have him undergo regression?"  
  
"Of course, I was willing. It was a small risk. You were so willing to be deceived by him, so distracted by him and what he could do for you, that it didn't occur to you not to trust him. It gave me all the time I needed to acquire everything else I need. That and opportunity."  
  
"And as you say, the time to improvise, which has always been one of your greatest strengths, thinking on your feet." Sloane stopped himself and then mused, "I always said that Jack Bristow was the greatest friend and the greatest enemy a man could have. But what I didn't realize was that you were both. When did you become my enemy? I'm curious."  
  
"When you chose the wrong path and I woke up and realized that I was heading that way as well. And if I could have ever forgotten -- when I looked into my daughter's face when she found out she was working for evil instead of good, all those times you would have sacrificed her. Watching her life take the same horrible path mine had - losing friends and family until all you have left is the game, the game without end."  
  
"And that, really, was my fatal mistake, wasn't it? Your family. I made a mistake when I threatened Mr. Tippin that first time, that second time. You love him, he's your family too. But of course, the greatest mistake was Sydney. I should have known, from watching you after Irina betrayed you, from the depths of your anguish, that your family is the one non-negotiable in your life. A person's basic character never changes, does it? You fooled me, though, all those years, when I thought you had no weaknesses when it came to love."  
  
"You think that it's my weakness. I'm curious, when did you think you had me? Was it when you heard via the bug in Will's apartment that he was moving in? Was it when you heard, via the bug in Francie's tote, that I'd given Will a ring?"  
  
"How did you know about that, anyway?"  
  
"Internal Security is run by idiots, Arvin. They are just too obvious. But that's enough of personnel matters. So, you thought Will was my weakness."  
  
"Yes. Your love for him is a liability. I can't believe, even still, that you haven't learned that lesson after Irina."  
  
"That, finally, is a lesson I have relearned."  
  
"Thanks to your Mr. Tippin, I believe."  
  
"Believe what you wish. Now, Arvin, it's time to stop reminiscing about the past and move on to the future. Let's be honest, if you can. The game is over. You are in check."  
  
Sloane sat there silently, while the com unit in his ear squawked with outrage. Finally Jack said patiently, "Would you please tell Sark to shut that cesspool he calls a mouth? I'd SO hate to see anything else happen to it." With quiet menace he continued, "I don't know how much plastic surgery could accomplish next time." Sloane stared at him and said, "So, Sark made a mistake too, didn't he? Was it Will or Sydney?" and then muttered, "Shut up, Sark."  
  
Jack said with finality, "Once again, let me spell it out for you. What you care about, personally, is that the information I have doesn't go to the Alliance. My question to you and your little friend in the van over there is what you are prepared to offer me to make sure it doesn't. That the Alliance doesn't find out how you plan on using that $100 million dollars and the intel Sark so carefully acquired to take over the entire organization." The listeners heard only silence. They assumed, correctly, that Sloane was in shock.  
  
Jack said calmly, "I'll give you an hour, Arvin, for old time's sake, to turn yourself in or to turn over the $100 million to me. I don't really care which one. Either way, I'm free. And let me make clear, that any attempt to harm me and mine, Syd or Will or anyone else Sark may have targetted? I've already set up a plan to deliver the information to the Alliance in such a situation. After all, I've had three long days to improvise a plan. More than enough time thanks to the fact that you've been so distracted you didn't attack immediately. As I knew you would be, so shocked weren't you, that Sark had withheld critical intel - that you're second in command, your best friend was a double all these years. Such duplicity all around you, simply shocking, isn't it?"  
  
Sloane sat there staring, Jack could practically see the wheels turning. He had given him just enough to totally confuse him. After thirty years, he knew Sloane couldn't improvise quickly enough to figure this out. He was so predictable, he'd fall back on his time-tested strategies. Well, it was time to put those in motion. "And we're done for now, Arvin. Call me when you're ready to deal. And tell Sark hello for me. Why don't you run along now and figure out the 100 million reasons why you should never have tried to blackmail me?"  
  
"I'd rather you leave first."  
  
"Too bad. Never turn your back on the devil." Sloane got up and walked out slowly, while Jack calmly sipped his drink.  
  
Great finale, if he did say so himself. He loved a great exit. It made the game so much more dramatic. He punched a number into his cell phone. "Tippin, be careful as of right now. Remember the signal. Remember, 1,2,3 and everything it means." Speaking aloud to the Op Center, listening in via the wire taped to his chest he said, "Agent Flaherty - move into position. Mountaineer and Boy Scout teams - move in. Devlin, I assume everyone else is in position. Wasn't that fun? I enjoyed it. Waiter? Check, please."  
  
Chapter 40: "Keep your eye on the ball and your head in the game."  
  
Back at the warehouse, Syd and Vaughn were staring at each other with their mouths hanging open. Syd's mind was working frantically. Vaughn sputtered, "How can Jack be so.calm over Will, he thinks he's going to be picked up, doesn't he! I could never be that calm about you! Were Jack and Will not really involved, was the whole thing was just an elaborate hoax?"  
  
"Is that what you think - their relationship was just a ploy?"  
  
"What do YOU think?"  
  
"My father would never betray Will's safety for the sake of taking down Sloane. He, as you said earlier, must have carefully calculated the risks."  
  
Down the hall came two sets of four agents. To Syd and Vaughn's shock, they were the Mountaineer and Boy Scout teams to which Jack had just referred. The leader told them that Jack had been assigned to cover them for the last three days. "On pain of death," one agent added, "nothing was to be allowed to happen to either of you." "Not just pain of death," another agent added, "A Jack Bristow kind of death. Kind of gave us all a lot of incentive." The two teams laughed.  
  
"WHAAT?" Vaughn exploded. "We've been under surveillance for three days?"  
  
"Actually, heavy protection," the leader corrected.  
  
"Syd, did you know-" Vaughn demanded.  
  
"NO!" she protested and turned back to the teams. "Wow, you guys are a lot better than Internal Security at SD6, I never knew you were there. My dad must have trained you," Syd laughed while Vaughn stared at her in disbelief. "I just don't get you," he began.  
  
His words were interrupted by the ring of Syd's cell phone. "Francie" she stated, looking at caller id.  
  
Chapter 41: "It doesn't work if the bad guys kill his mother's uncle's friend's neighbor's pet dog. You've got to make the stakes high." (Steven Seagal)  
  
"Syd, is Will with you?"  
  
"No, he should be at your place right now waiting for me to get there so we can -- Why? What's wrong, you sound terrible!"  
  
"I think I just made a huge mistake," Francie sobbed into the phone. "Calm down, what's the matter?" Sydney looked at Vaughn with huge eyes. "Is your dad there?"  
  
"No. I'm at work. Remember? What's wrong? Why do you need my dad?" Vaughn looked at her quizzically. Somehow the look on Syd's face told him that Francie didn't need Jack to come and fix a leaky faucet. He whispered, "Put her on speaker" and when she didn't move fast enough, he reached out and pushed the button himself and heard Francie saying, "This guy called and said he was a coworker of your dad's. He sounded really nice. He was talking about the blackmail, that it was heinous and he was appalled by it. He said he wanted to help. He said he knew Will, actually knew Will better than Jack. That he wanted to talk to Will personally and offer his help. And did I know where Will was, because he wasn't at his old apartment."  
  
"Oh no, Francie, no," Syd moaned, unable to help herself now that the threat was made clear. "Francie, what accent did he have, what did he say his name was?"  
  
"He had a British accent and he said his name was Mr. Sark."  
  
"No!" Sydney whispered, "He was right." Vaughn's face showed total shock. Sark had Will again just as Jack had predicted.  
  
Francie continued, "Sydney. I got scared at the way he ended the call. When I told him Will was on his way to our house and did he want to leave a number, he said, 'Don't worry , I'll find him. I always did before'. Just the way he said it, I got scared and I thought of how you all looked about that blackmail. This is more than money, isn't it? This is about life and death, all over a power play at some stupid aerospace company," she cried.  
  
"Francie, stay put. Don't open the door for anyone except a man named Flaherty. I think that's who my dad is sending you. He has carrot red hair. He is a friend. He will keep you safe. Sit in the living room, keep the phone dialed to 911 and your finger on the send button."  
  
"What's going on?" she cried. "Wait a minute, there's the door."  
  
"Ask for id!" Syd yelled. They heard her ask for id and the reply, "It's Agent Flaherty, ma'am. Here's my id. Jack Bristow sent me over. He said to tell you that you need to work on your timing in the song, 'Surrey with the Fringe on Top.'"  
  
Chapter 42: "The secret of all victory lies in the organization of the non- obvious." (Oswald Spengler)  
  
Weiss beeped Vaughn, "So the plan is for you two to sit tight. Will has been picked up, near Syd and Francie's. Jack thinks that Sloane and Sark will be bringing Will over there, probably even use the same cage you two always do."  
  
"WHAAAT?" Vaughn and Syd said simultaneously.  
  
"Yeah, he told us that Sark made you two. Three days ago, I think. That's why you two have been under protection. You heard all that, didn't you? Hey - I guess neither of you even noticed! I bet that really frosts your buns, doesn't it?"  
  
"Weiss," Vaughn growled, "So Jack is SURE that ."  
  
"That Sark'll think it's poetic to bring Will over there for Jack since that's where you and Syd always met."  
  
"They knew we met here?" "Yeah, Sark apparently knew what he was doing when it came to following Sydney."  
  
"Boy, is my dad going to kill me over that sloppiness," Syd muttered.  
  
She asked, "Are we tailing them?"  
  
"Yes, but we don't really need to. Your father put a tracking device and low range com unit on Will, months ago, I guess, just in case."  
  
Vaughn asked sharply, "Tracking device? Low range com unit? What could he possibly have planted on him for 24/7 protection?"  
  
"Who knows," Weiss said absently. "Hey, looks like Jack was right. They are headed your way. We are on our way. ETA is five minutes for them, we'll be there in two. Sit tight."  
  
The minutes seemed like hours. Syd sat quietly thinking, while Vaughn fidgeted, his anger palpable. Syd finally blurted out, "It was the ring." "The ring?"  
  
"Yeah, months ago, Dad brought back this amazing ring for Will from India. Will said it was just a souvenir. Even then I thought it was odd, because he wore it on his left ring finger, like a wedding ring. Then later, I thought I was so stupid for not understanding what that ring meant for the two of them. Now---."  
  
"So what you're saying is that Will and Jack used the ring to make people think it was just a relationship ring, when in fact it was an electronic tracking device for Will's safety? And the low range com unit was in case Will got taken unexpectedly? Man, that's cold. Syd-so are Will and Jack involved or not?" "I-"  
  
Weiss entered, saying the rest of the team was right behind him. Sydney continued musing about her father's tactics. "That ring and everything else? Why would Sloane fall for that? Why would he, who knows Jack Bristow better than anyone on the planet, think that my father would ever be so - besotted - for lack of a better word, that he would not take proper precautions and protect the relationship and Will?"  
  
Vaughn picked up her thread of thought, "Why would Jack know that Sloane would fall for that?"  
  
Syd asked, "What did we miss? What does my dad know?"  
  
"Know?"  
  
"Know about Sloane."  
  
Vaughn wrinkled his brow, "What do you mean?"  
  
Syd said quickly, time was running out, "For some reason, using the relationship as a cover would serve some purpose - a catalyst? He must have known that Sloane would find his lack of caution believable for some reason - some reason relating to Sloane himself. Some reason great enough to distract Sloane."  
  
Still wrinkling, Vaughn asked, "What could it be?"  
  
"I have no idea, but I wonder.."  
  
"Really? Or are you holding something back again?"  
  
Syd snapped, "No, I'm not. I have no idea. It's my father who's the master of game theory, not me. And what's this about Emily? I can't wait to ask him," she stated and then stared at the look of distrust on Vaughn's face, "Don't you trust him?"  
  
Weiss, "Well, I do. I trust this is going to be quite the show. I'm ready to sit back and enjoy it."  
  
Chapter 43: "I wouldn't ever set out to hurt anyone deliberately unless it was, you know, important -like a league game or something." (Dick Butkus)  
  
Finally, the team entered, with Jack at the rear arguing with Kendall quietly. Jack noted that he had just received a phone call from Sloane telling him that they had Will. Everyone else was quiet, waiting for a phone call or Sloane and/or Sark to arrive with Will. They all took positions. Within just moments, they heard three men enter the facility and as Jack had predicted, make it over to Syd and Vaughn's usual cage. They heard Sloane and Sark push Will into a chair and tie him up. Will protested and Sloane told Sark to hit him. They heard the sound of a sharp slap across a face. A few moments, later Jack's cell phone beeped silently.  
  
"Hello, Sark or Sloane? Which is it?" Jack growled as he hit the speaker button.  
  
"Are you on your way? Are you alone?" Sloane asked, providing them with proof that he did not know anyone else was in the building. Good.  
  
"Of course," Jack responded, "Those were the terms you set a few minutes ago."  
  
"I have your word?"  
  
"Of course," Jack said as he rolled his eyes at the team.  
  
"I'm surprised, Jack. I would have thought you'd have teams flooding into the building by now to up the ante. I'm assuming you are having us tailed, although we didn't see any. Good job, on that, by the way."  
  
"Well, if it were Syd I would have teams surrounding you already." Everyone smiled, looking at the teams and firepower around them. "She can take care of herself. But I can't take the chance. Will - " Here he paused and let concern overtake his voice, "Will cannot take care of himself. He's.just a civilian. You bastard. He has no part in this game. I warned you."  
  
Suddenly it was Sark's voice on the line. "Why, good afternoon, Mr. Bristow. We have your little friend here. You do remember him. I remember him well. I have to say."  
  
"Cut to the chase. What do you want?" Jack snarled.  
  
"We want you, of course."  
  
"For what? So you don't have to hand in the money or yourselves, I assume."  
  
"No. For a power play, what else? We need to demonstrate to the Alliance that we can deliver a highly-placed double agent. And if we had your daughter, that would just be the icing on the cake as you Americans say." Syd heard Vaughn's breathing grow harsh.  
  
"You can kiss that idea goodbye. Syd is already in protective custody," Jack said dismissively and then continued, "How did you find out that we were double agents?" Jack said to keep him talking as the team moved cautiously closer.  
  
"Well, as for you, Irina, of course." Syd bit her lip. "You were just living on borrowed time, although I didn't tell Sloane until three days ago, when I made Sydney. Your lovely daughter, I began to put two and two together while in the hospital with nothing to do but think. When Arvin came to see me, I asked him about some of those missions on which I'd met her - missions that were not authorized by SD6, as it transpires. I didn't mention my suspicions, just acted like I admired her work. Which, actually, I do. And then when Sloane brought me back to LA, he assigned me to grunt work, internal security at first. He thought I needed to work my way back up. And I asked that I be assigned to Sydney. She's always been of.interest to me, after all. And lo and behold, she kept meeting this man in this warehouse. And when I got a good look at him, I realized that he was the same man that was with her in Madagascar. At first we thought she was meeting him for romantic assignations. But even someone as tough as your daughter would tire of endless meetings in a storage warehouse. Don't we all want some ambiance, after all?"  
  
Jack interjected in a bored voice. "You do like to talk about yourself, don't you? But you're full of shit, Sark. You don't want to turn us over to prove anything. All turning me over would prove is that Sloane was a total incompetent who had a traitor as his second in command for more than two decades. Turning Syd over would just prove that one of the most successful agents in the history of SD6 had actually spent most of her time providing intel to the CIA." He so enjoyed turning the knife in Sloane. He smiled as he continued, "Let's move along, I'm getting bored. You want my documentation of the scheme the two of you hatched up to take over the Alliance with that $100 million Sloane stole from them to pay off Emily's supposed kidnapper. You finally figured it out when I told Arvin in that jazz club. I thought I was going to have to take out an ad on a billboard."  
  
They heard Will laugh and someone hit him again. Jack barked into the phone, "Let me guess, that was Sark doing the dirty work for you, Sloane wasn't it? You never liked to get your hands messy did you? I bet it wasn't you who cut off Emily's finger and sent it to yourself in the mail was it?" Weiss reflected that the com units were really getting quite good - they could all hear Sloane's intake of breath at Jack's combined insult and stab at Sloane's vulnerability - his wife. "So, what's the deal to be?" Jack asked calmly in that tone of voice he knew both Sark and Sloane would find intensely irritating.  
  
Sark snarled, "It's simple."  
  
"I'll do the talking," Sloane said briskly. "We give you Will and in exchange you give us your documentation."  
  
"And then? Because we all know that's not the end. Before you got the idea to nab Will to get the documentation, just what was that blackmail attempt really about? I'm ever so interested in the answer."  
  
"I'll tell you. You were right, you and Syd are too valuable. The two of you will become triple agents, working for us, gathering more and more intel on the Alliance to facilitate the transfer of power. Jack, you have been my second in command forever. You'll still have that position, you're named in my position papers with the Alliance. Sydney is named as the number three officer. And best of all, if you two are very good, we'll let you live, and Will, and Syd's latest man, what's his name?"  
  
"Vaughn, Michael Vaughn," Sark interjected and then said smoothly, "I am thinking that Sydney will do a lot to save her Mr. Vaughn. After all, she doesn't want to come home and find him bloodying up the bathtub, does she?" Jack shot his hand out and covered Sydney's mouth before she could say anything. "And too, she made a tactical error when she agreed to try and kill Sloane for me to get him that antidote to Irina's poison. She would have been smarter to just let Agent Vaughn meet his bloody end. Very interesting when I discovered who had a serious, but unnamed, blood disease at the same time Syd was being scrubbed clean of my little chemical shower." Syd sent a venomous glance toward Kendall who had promised them all of Vaughn's records had been destroyed, while Sark continued. "Sloane was very interested in that information. Plus I had not only something to hold over her head, not only a way to effectively kill the misplaced affection Sloane had for her, but I also found a way to have another hostage dependent upon her good behavior."  
  
"Really? Is that how you think this little scenario is going to go? You kill Tippin and I still have the intel."  
  
"But it would kill YOU if Mr. Tippin were gone, wouldn't it? You forget, I know your weakness, I've heard the tapes. So, you may like to rethink that last flippant statement. But, first, perhaps, you'd like to talk to your little friend. You know - Mr. Tippin - one of Sydney's friends who has already made my personal acquaintance before? He's finding the ambiance somewhat lacking."  
  
"Fine, put him on." Jack smiled, although his voice was cold. The game was almost too easy.  
  
Jack could tell that Sark had switched to speaker mode. Good. Perfect. "Will, are you okay? Tell me you're okay?" Everyone stopped and stared. The concern in Jack's voice sounded real, but his face was calm. What WAS real, here?  
  
"Hi. I'm okay. Sorry I got taken, I know you're going to be mad later, aren't you?" Will said like an idiot.  
  
Jack laughed and asked, "How are you doing?"  
  
Will laughed as well, although his voice was slightly slurred. "You ask me that? Seriously, ask me again in a few minutes."  
  
"You still have the ring on?" Jack asked, his tone gentle and filled with great concern, while looking at his watch. Syd looked up sharply. That watch looked familiar. Watching her, Vaughn's forehead creased.  
  
Sark's head flew up. He was scenting a weakness. "That's right. The ring," he stated with glee as he grabbed Will's bound hands and began pulling it off.  
  
Will cursed and said, "No, you bastard, leave me the ring."  
  
"This is an interesting ring. Very heavy karat weight. Custom work. Indian, isn't that what Syd said, Jack? Pick it up on an SD6 mission or CIA mission, I wonder? Love those 'W's on the signet area. How.sweet. And there's an inscription too. Even sweeter. It's difficult to read, however. What does it say, Mr. Tippin?"  
  
"I'm not going to repeat it for you, you sick bastard," Will said sullenly.  
  
Sark chortled, "Such hostility. Clearly you've been spending too much time with your.what shall we call him?"  
  
"Jack is his name, or perhaps Mr. Bristow to you? I understand he never gave you permission to call him by his first name, did he?"  
  
"Ah, yes, that flight to Paris."  
  
"Ill-fated flight for you, Sark."  
  
"Aren't you brave now? Mr. Bristow's influence again? Is that what sleeping with Jack Bristow does for a person - increases his courage? Or does it take courage to sleep with Jack Bristow?" Unconsciously everyone glanced over at Jack, only to see him rolling his eyes. Will was apparently just as amused for Sark said, "You find that funny, Mr. Tippin?"  
  
Sloane finally interrupted, "Sark. I can think of a million more important topics of conversation than Jack Bristow's sex life. Let's get back to-"  
  
Jack interjected, "I am thinking of a 100 million more interesting topics."  
  
Sark responded smoothly, "Ah, but it's these little games that make life worthwhile, so I'll return first to this ring. This ever-so-important ring. And its personal inscription. So you're not going to tell me what it says, Mr. Tippin? It's not like I can't read it regardless." They heard footsteps and then Sark resumed talking, "Arvin, can you adjust the light over here a little better? It seems that reading this inscription aloud might be more torture for Mr. Tippin and Mr. Bristow than what I did last time. If that's possible."  
  
"Asshole," said Will and Jack simultaneously. Everyone's head jerked up at the synchronization, to say nothing of the venom in each of their voices. All as they continued to creep forward.  
  
There was a pause and then Will added, "Jack, I'm thinking that now's the time to finally tell me you love me." Everyone's eyes now nearly bugged out of their heads at the plaintive note in his voice. Will continued, "No more coding like in the -"  
  
"Ah, is that what this odd inscription means, Mr Tippin? Are those ovals? They almost look like fingerprints, how very bizarre. No. Circles, perhaps? 'Will, dot, dot ,dot, Jack' means, let's see, how sappy can we be? 'Will, I love you, Jack'? How touching. And how very sad that Jack couldn't say the words. We never did hear him say those words on the tapes, did we Arvin?"  
  
Sloane's voice receded slightly as he said, "Get on with it already. I want to ask Jack--"  
  
Will inserted, "Actually, Sark, it's 'Will, 1,2,3, Jack.'"  
  
Sark purred, "Whatever, Mr. Tippin. I think I'll just keep it as a souvenir. A souvenir of Jack's most egregious failure of personal courage."  
  
"Sark. Seriously? I'd watch my mouth."  
  
Jack interjected, "Will, remember. You are mine."  
  
"I know."  
  
Syd watched her father press a button on his watch and heard both Jack and Will say"1,2,3" simultaneously as a small blast erupted from the cage.  
  
"Oh my God," the team mouthed silently, being well trained enough to know that silence even now was crucial. "Dad!" Sydney gasped almost silently. "Will?"  
  
"Will is fine. I know he followed the plan. He better have," Jack said quietly. "Let's move in." The team made their way to the cage. There was significant rubble lying in their path.  
  
Chapter 44: "Sometimes it's useful to know how large your zero is." (Anon.)  
  
Where the table had once stood, there was a pile. What remained of Sark's body was no doubt lying underneath it. To the left was more rubble and debris, among which Sloane was lying. Several agents went toward him cautiously.  
  
Jack and Syd were more interested in Will. Scanning the area, they saw the chair underneath a portion of the fence. "Will!" Syd yelled.  
  
"I'm right here, Syd, you don't have to scream," Will said. The chair was lying on its side, with its back toward the blast.  
  
"Good job, Tippin, glad to see you followed the plan," Jack said as he reached down to upright the chair. Syd noted with a start that her father's hands were trembling almost imperceptibly and looking at Will, saw him noting the fact as well. Jack pulled out a knife to cut through the ties on Will's hands as Will winked at Sydney. "Yeah, one small problem with all those rehearsals, Jack," he said sarcastically. "You shouldn't have used a mat on the floor. I should have practiced falling on concrete so I would have known better than to lead with my HEAD!"  
  
"I told you a million times about that," Jack snarked back, "But at least you remembered to use the turtle position and used the chair to protect yourself. You don't look too banged up."  
  
"I know you told me a million times, call me a slow learner. I think I have a bump the size of Gibralter on my head." Sydney smiled inside; Will did know how to distract her father. "Let me see," Jack started.  
  
"Wait a minute, you two," Vaughn interrupted. "You had Tippin practice falling while tied to a chair? How did you know-"  
  
"How did I know they'd tie him to a chair like this when they got him here? Simple, Sark and Sloane almost always use the same m.o. when in the field - tie the person to a chair with hands behind the back and tie the legs, at the ankles to the legs of the chair. Predictability - it can really be one's downfall in this business," Jack finished dryly as he began walking over in Sloane's direction. He remembered suddenly that Will's legs were still tied and with a nod toward the man, tossed the knife in Will's direction. To everyone's surprise, Tippin caught it nimbly.  
  
Looking up after cutting through the ties on his legs, Will said, "What? What's everyone looking at?"  
  
"Tippin, the way Jack threw and you caught that knife?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Yeah, in addition to hours spent falling on my head, we spent hours throwing knives in the basement and shooting guns. Really cut into my time watching football, let me tell you." Will said sarcastically.  
  
Weiss asked Jack, "But how did you know he wouldn't really get hurt?"  
  
"Simple calculations of the power of the explosives given the height of the ring, when Sark was holding it at a certain distance. I packed just enough in the ring to kill whoever was holding it and do some local damage, but not enough to harm any one more than 15 feet away. Well, at least not seriously harm. And it was Tippin's job to tell me when to ignite the fuse in the ring."  
  
"So-those were code words, "seriously" and "1,2,3" and "you are mine" were to tell each other when-" Weiss began, when Sloane began speaking.  
  
"The ring. I have to say, Jack, that was a stroke of brilliance. I assume it had a tracking device. And was it C4?" Jack picked his way over to Sloane. He was lying amidst the rubble, heavily wounded. His breathing was rapid and shallow and blood was trickling out his mouth. But his voice was steady.  
  
"Yes, that's my jewelry explosive of choice." Syd snorted as she joined her father. Will, Vaughn, Weiss and Kendall right behind the Bristows.  
  
"Was it meant to take me out, too?"  
  
"No, not necessarily. If possible, I wanted to talk to you one last time."  
  
"And you knew Sark would be the one to pounce on that ring as a weakness, to taunt you and Tippin with it, while I could care less?"  
  
"Of course. That's how Sark operates - petty little mind games to torment the victim, rather than just a quick and clean cut. I knew you wouldn't have the stomach to stay too close to him while he did his type of work. It was a rather unattractive aspect of his personality, something you didn't want to see or acknowledge."  
  
"How did you know it was Sark all along? I mean, after you saw him in France? We told everyone was told that he was incapacitated, out of the game."  
  
"Tippin recognized his hands in a surveillance photo from Alliance headquarters. It was interesting that the plastic surgery to repair Sark's face was much more extensive than required. Why would that be? He hadn't done anything that would necessitate changing his appearance to that extent, after all. All he'd done was follow orders, right? Irina's and yours. So, why change his appearance? That kind of work is expensive, very expensive. Who has that kind of money?"  
  
"Wait a minute. Will Tippin was the one who discovered Sark's whereabouts?" Sloane inhaled sharply as pain crossed his face.  
  
"Yes. Is that such a surprise?" Jack smiled proudly.  
  
"You're joking. Tippin? How did he see a photo? Wait - that travel magazine is just a front, isn't it? Tippin.I would never have guessed..But that's the point, isn't it, Jack?"  
  
"Hmm. He told his superiors, but they wouldn't listen to his findings, so -"  
  
"So he got smart and told you."  
  
"Yes. Given what I knew from Sark during our little debriefing sessions, that he had plans to use you to take over the Alliance, I knew he needed to be watched if he appeared again. As it was, just getting that intel from Sark was enough, originally, to seal your fate with the Alliance. But when Tippin saw Sark at Alliance headquarters, I wondered how he got placed there. So, I called in some favors. It pays to chat up the staff when you visit the London headquarters, doesn't it? And lo and behold, the new analyst/gopher, named Mr. Kras, at the Alliance had a recommendation from none other than Arvin Sloane. Kras? Really, Arvin, so sloppy. And falling for Sark's line, both personally and professionally?"  
  
"Pathetic, isn't that what you said, Jack? Before..." Sloane whispered.  
  
"Yes. Did Sark ever tell you about the advice I gave him on that flight to Paris? To think with the head above the neck? Always a good idea."  
  
"You make your point, Jack, go on."  
  
"This new employee, Mr. Kras, whom everyone considered quite brilliant by the way, was given a very high security clearance and had access to documentation from all of the cells of the Alliance. How very convenient. But how very sloppy of you not to cover your tracks, how very sloppy of you to be in such a hurry. And keeping the same email address? Getting a new address takes just seconds. Haste makes waste, you know. Patience is essential in this game. You two left tracks that were, really, all too easy to follow, at least if one knew where to look."  
  
"Which you did."  
  
"Then, suddenly, seventh months ago he was transferred back to SD6, but into Internal Security, the most inept department in the whole section. You were starting to get nervous, weren't you, Arvin? This was a huge scam, after all, must have been nerve-wracking. You got paranoid. You also wanted Sark close to you. And then, you decided that you and I had SO much in common, based on the slim fact that Tippin and I were best friends and spent lots of time together. You obsessed about us, about my personal life, when you should have been paying attention to my professional life. You projected your own fears and inadequacies onto me. Did it make you feel better to think we were living parallel lives? So, you had him and his Keystone Kops following Syd and I around. Really. It was, almost, amusing to play little games with him and his incompetent crew. Although Sark, of course, had the instincts of a shark. He knew there was something suspicious about Syd and me, but it took him how many months to make Syd? But all in all, you could have made much better use of Sark in London. Very sloppy placement of Sark's talents. Why waste his talents here? And just what are his talents, Arvin?"  
  
"I don't know what you mean."  
  
"Oh, I think you do. You wanted to keep Sark close to you, didn't you? I already knew from our little debriefing session of your involvement with each other. He spent his initial time at SD6 quite successfully worming his way into your, how shall I say, good graces? You wanted to keep him close to you for personal reasons. He has a certain slimey charm, if one isn't too picky, if one's judgment about people is not fatally flawed. Which yours is, Arvin, because you never truly looked into other people, you never truly looked into yourself."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Think about it, you never knew I was your enemy for all those years, you never truly suspected me, although Ariana Kane knew very quickly that I was more than I appeared. You just don't have good people skills." Jack shook his head in mock dismay. "And the aspect of this I find possibly most repulsive of all? That you not only could not stay faithful to Emily, but that you'd be unfaithful with that piece of scum Sark."  
  
"You're right about that, Jack. Every time I'd see Emily, I knew what I was doing with Sark was so wrong. I just couldn't help myself, I had no choice."  
  
"Of course you had a choice. You've made bad choices for so long, so many times. You started when you chose evil, so long ago. At one time, I thought, hoped, your love for Emily would keep you from that path.just as my love for Sydney kept me on the right path."  
  
"That's YOUR world view, Jack. I see it as choosing power."  
  
"Power to what end, Arvin, to what end?"  
  
Silence. "This is the end, isn't it, old friend? Point non plus?" Sloane asked quietly.  
  
"Yes, it is the end. It's checkmate. Do you have anything you want to say?"  
  
"Are you asking me if I want to make peace?" Sloane laughed derisively, then coughed. When he had his breath back, he continued, "All I can say is... ah, I am forgetting. Sydney, perhaps you remember? What is it Voltaire said on his deathbed in response to a priest asking that he renounce Satan?" Sydney looked at her father helplessly and then Vaughn spoke up, "Now, now, my good man, this is no time for making enemies." Sloane chuckled, "Thank you, Mr. Vaughn. Glad to know Syd found herself a man who knows literature."  
  
Then he continued, facing Jack, "Can you do me two last favors?"  
  
"What are they?" Sloane let out a laugh, and then began coughing again, "Always cautious, always. How stupid of me. You never take a risk unless the benefits are greater than the cost. I can't believe I was fooled by your charade with Tippin. Initially, I believed you when you told me there was nothing between you. But then, you seemed different, happier. And Sark was sure, positive, there was something between you. I didn't believe it until I saw the photos, heard the tapes. But---"  
  
"But, yes, they were all plants. You saw, heard, knew what I wanted you to know."  
  
"I was a fool. You are too precise. You would never have been that sloppy, would you?"  
  
"Never, not with the people I love."  
  
"I projected my own inadequacies on you because I thought we were so much alike."  
  
"Your favors, Arvin?"  
  
"Just a minute, one question. Why did you have Tippin move into your house? Wouldn't it have been better to continue to allow us to make tapes? I assume now, from what you said earlier, that you knew we were taping."  
  
"Of course. The dummy bugkiller they used was gray instead of black, so I didn't even have to run a scan if I didn't want to."  
  
"Which you did, anyway, of course."  
  
"Of course, Arvin. And my home-"  
  
"That impregnable fortress you call a home, as Tippin said once?"  
  
"Just how many times did Internal Security try and fail on my home, just out of curiosity?"  
  
"At least once a week. But you had that placed locked up so tightly."  
  
"Of course. A person has to be able to sleep at night. That's why Tippin was in my house, so I didn't have to worry about him. He's new to the game, after all."  
  
Sloane shook his head slowly, "And I should have known from those tapes, shouldn't I? It was all a charade, designed to fool me into thinking that we were alike, you and I. That we had the same weaknesses, fell prey to the same failures. I should have known," Sloane gave a wry smile, "No man our age could have sex that often."  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow and said dryly, "Speak for yourself."  
  
Sloane gave out a hacking laugh. "Oh, I will miss that dry wit of yours, Jack. It kept me sane over countless meetings these many years."  
  
Weiss called out. "Wait a minute! Tippin was a complete red herring!" Sloane and Jack both rolled their eyes.  
  
"Yes, Arvin, one might think that Weiss is a member of Internal Security at SD6, he's that slow sometimes. Loyal, though."  
  
"Thanks a bunch," Weiss muttered, "I'm on the same level as a dog." Will whispered to him, "It could be worse, he called me a baby once so that Sloane and Sark would think I was no threat. Baby!" "Well, at least a baby is human!" Weiss cracked.  
  
Sloane looked up at Jack, "Can you tell them to shut up? How you put up with Tippin all these months, I'll never know."  
  
"Oh, he's amusing, I told you that a long time ago," Jack said with a smile.  
  
"But he was a red herring, you used him to distract me, didn't you, from what you were really doing. And it worked, because you knew about Sark and me, you knew I'd allowed Sark to distract me. All the while I was distracted by Sark and our plans to take over the Alliance, by you, you were consolidating your own power, gathering your intel."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Let me guess, if this little scenario hadn't gone down today, if we hadn't stupidly, foolishly, idiotically fallen into your trap, when WAS Alliance Security moving in?"  
  
"Tonight at midnight. Either way, I will end up heading SD6 or at least directing it from behind the scenes. But this way-"  
  
"Yes, why Jack, why this way, when you could have just let the Alliance take me?"  
  
"Because this is all personal. You made it personal."  
  
"How? It was just business."  
  
"Oh no, it was personal. When you recruited Sydney to hold me hostage. To hold me hostage to SD6 and our supposed friendship. When you hurt her and her friends, when you continued, endlessly, to threaten her, to threaten Tippin here. It had to stop. And I wanted to see your face when you knew the game was over." Sloane and Jack stared at each other, while everyone else waited.  
  
"The favors, Arvin. Ask and I'll see."  
  
"Careful to the end."  
  
"It's wise to use a long spoon when one sups with the devil."  
  
"Ah, yes, you've been rereading those books from your days in solitary."  
  
"And some new ones. They've been illuminating now that I was ready to hear what they had to say."  
  
"What are they about, if I may ask?"  
  
"Life, death, good, evil, God, the journey, the destination. You know, the-- "  
  
"The big questions. You always had the big questions, the big plan, the big strategy. While I always preferred the small questions, the not knowing, the edges of darkness. You always wanted to KNOW."  
  
"Not always, sometimes the lie is easier, better to believe. Sometimes it's easier to get lost in the details than see the big picture. But finally, I learned that when you are honest with yourself, when you see the big picture, you will see the destination clearly and you won't be alone while you are getting there. I need to know where I'm going and who I am with, even in the darkness."  
  
"Speaking of darkness. Emily?"  
  
"Yes, I'll take care of her, Arvin, and make sure she's safe."  
  
"Of course, of course, I know you would. And one last favor for you, Jack. Those tapes - they are in my safe in my office at home. You know where it is."  
  
"Thank you," Jack said quietly.  
  
Sloane looked at him carefully, "Were my first instincts were correct? Are you that lucky?"  
  
"You'll never know, Arvin. And one's luck has more to do with making the right choices than in the hand one is dealt." Jack corrected.  
  
Sloane nodded, "In your mind. And so the game ends. I am in checkmate. I always thought we were playing the game with and not against each other, Jack."  
  
"No, we are always playing the game against the best and worst parts of ourselves," Jack said quietly. Sloane rolled his eyes and then grimaced in pain.  
  
"This" he said gesturing toward his midsection, "This is taking too long, isn't it? You don't want to do what you should do. I know, I realize now that all that dirty work, you called it, must have killed you inside. So, as one last favor, I'll take care of this myself, to prove I can." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small revolver. Instantly, before the nozzle cleared his jacket lapels, several firearms were pointing at him. But the one that held his attention was the one in Tippin's hand. He chuckled, but without amusement, "We never even frisked him for a firearm." He noted gladly that everyone but Jack looked equally astonished to see Tippin holding the gun so confidently. He hadn't been the only one fooled, after all.  
  
"We figured you wouldn't check," Jack said dryly with a sideways glance at Will.  
  
"You did a good job of convincing us that he was harmless," Sloane nodded. Then continued, "Harmless! What a fool. I thought he and Syd were your greatest weakness. What a blind fool I was." He shook his head, staring at the gun and then raised his eyes to Jack.  
  
Arvin nodded, "It's time, Jack," and Jack lowered his gun while everyone else looked on in puzzlement.  
  
Sloane continued, "But finally, my last request? Look in my eyes at the end, so that I can see the face of my oldest friend. My greatest enemy and my greatest." The last words were cut off by the muffled sound of a gun. Sloane had done his oldest friend one last favor and ended his life himself.  
  
Chapter 45: "Not a bad day's work on the whole. Not a bad's day's work." (Baroness Emmuska Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel)  
  
Outside, Devlin was waiting, along with an unmarked ambulance and hearse. Devlin walked over to Jack and the rest of the team who had come outside, while the medics and recovery team were cleaning up within.  
  
Devlin shook Jack's hand and began speaking rapidly, while shaking his head. "Jack, that was the most amazing example of gamesmanship I have ever had the privilege to witness. Playing them, like that right to the end. I'm glad you're on our side." Everyone laughed in relief. Devlin continued, "You will be getting a major commendation. I have to say that self- discipline was amazing with this project, a year in the making. Setting up Sloane, netting Sark, by simply pretending to have a relationship with Tippin while gathering the intel. Brilliant, just brilliant. Flawless execution. Improvising three days ago when you and Syd and Vaughn were made? Great job. High risk to be sure, but the results speak for themselves." He began to list, " Sark and Sloane eliminated, as needed. It's unfortunate that Sark accidentally discharged the explosives in that ring, but his usefulness to us was at an end anyway. And Sloane, a suicide? Who would have ever expected?" he said archly with a hard glance around the circle of agents. "But, all's well that ends well. You in charge at SD6...the end is in sight." Devlin clasped Jack's hand again and then smiled at him.  
  
Devlin added, "When you have time, I want you to write a report for the junior officers on the game theory you employed here. You said before that when this is all over, you want to retire from active status and become a mentor or teacher of junior agents, that you enjoyed working with Tippin, Vaughn and Weiss. So you can start your 'professorial status'" he laughed, shaking his head at the notion of Jack out of the field, "with that report." Jack nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Devlin cut him off.  
  
"Sorry, Jack, I'm in a hurry. Big dinner tonight. And you, Mr. Tippin, naturally you will get a commendation as well. You have made sacrifices for your country, put your life in danger, pretended to a lifestyle that long- time field agents would have had trouble maintaining. I guess you are now, de facto, field rated, and by no one less than Jack Bristow. So, if you want to become an agent, officially, you can."  
  
"Seriously? Are you kidding? No way. This little mission was quite enough to last me a lifetime. And besides, we weren't---"  
  
"Okay, Mr. Tippin. I understand." Devlin said firmly, nailing Will with a warning stare. "We all can't have ice water in our veins like Jack here. But, good job. I have to go now. Call me later, Jack, with a timeline." Devlin shook hands with everyone and left.  
  
"Gee," Will said, "Is that guy always in that much of a hurry?" Everyone laughed and began talking, excitement on all faces.  
  
Chapter 46: "If you must play, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes and the quitting time." (Chinese proverb)  
  
Vaughn took Syd by the arm and walked over to Jack and Will. Vaughn erupted, "Jack, I have to ask. Was it really worth the risk? I mean, I know you said that you would do anything to defeat evil. But this, this astounds me. That you would take a mere analyst, a desk analyst, one of your daughter's friends, a friend who was almost killed previously and who certainly had his life ruined, set him up as your lover thereby putting his life in danger? Again? Just to set a trap? Devlin was right, you do have ice water in your veins!"  
  
"Vaughn, listen to me---" Jack began, when Vaughn cut him off. "You know I stood there listening at the end to Sloane and you and I began to wonder just how far you would have gone to defeat him. Just how much alike were you two? Did enemies become more alike as time went on, did the circle close? Would you have sacrificed Will? Were you able to fool Sloane all these years because you are so much alike?"  
  
"How can you say that?" Syd asked incredulously, staring at him in shock. "That's exactly the kind of thing Sloane would do! Sacrifice someone!"  
  
"And your point is, what, exactly?" Vaughn asked coldly.  
  
"Hoo, boy, back up," Weiss muttered as he watched raw fury pass over Sydney's face. With a lightning-fast movement, her arm swung up and she slapped Vaughn across the face, so hard he inadvertently stepped back a pace. Weiss steadied him with one hand and then let go and stepped aside. No way did he want to be in the middle of this meltdown.  
  
"How dare you? How dare you equate what my father does with what Sloane does? There is NO comparison," Sydney said with quiet fury.  
  
With almost equal anger, Vaughn snarled back, "Isn't there? They both have killed, lied, cheated, stolen, paid any price, all in the name of their endgame."  
  
"And so have I, Vaughn, so have I. Oh that's right, I forgot, in your world, in your rule book, there are good persons and bad persons. Somehow, when you kill on a mission, you can still be good, because it happens in the heat of the moment, always in obvious self defense. But my father and I - because our entire lives are a long-term mission - it's easy to think we are bad, isn't it? And the price? The price is acceptable when it's your life at risk, but--"  
  
"Your father has chosen to do things, take certain actions when -"  
  
Syd cut him off with a motion and said, "Chosen? You make it sound so easy. Do you have any idea of the impossible choices he's had to make? Impossible. Sometimes, there's no good choice. Sometimes all you can do is keep the long-term goal in mind. Sometimes the right now is so horrible, the choices are so terrible right this minute..."  
  
"I know, but -"  
  
Sydney shook her head emphatically. "No, again, you DON'T know. You don't know what it's like to be.," she said growing quiet as she thought, struggled for the right words. "How do I describe this? I told Will once about waking on a plane and not knowing where you were, if you were a good guy or a bad guy, not knowing who you were. I told him about how panicked I was sometimes when I'd wake up and my dad wasn't there, like a kid waking up from a nightmare with no one to comfort them." She noted Jack's stare of incredulity and realized she should have told him long before how she felt. Giving him a smile, she continued, "But, the journey isn't as smooth as on a plane ride. It's more like a footrace on this dark, bumpy road with no maps, no light, no signs and all you have is what's inside you. Your own stamina, your own commitment, your own sense of direction, your own guideposts. And have they been damaged by the traveling you've had to do? You don't know the condition of your." she faltered, searching..  
  
"Your self, your soul?" asked Weiss quietly.  
  
"Yes," Syd nodded at him. "Yes, that self, that soul is so...scattered by all of the, by everything you've had to do, to pretend to be along the way. Who will you be when you stop the race? What did you leave behind? Are you lost? Did you lose your self along the way? Do you know the destination anymore? Will you recognize it when you see it? I did tonight. I recognized it. I saw it. The end, the goal. Didn't you?"  
  
Everyone stared at her. Jack's face, which had begun like a thundercloud, had slowly changed to reflect happiness and pride in her words. "Syd," he began quietly, "Honey. Thank you. Thank you for articulating what I could not and for seeing through my eyes." He touched her arm and then turned back toward Vaughn, his eyes darkening.  
  
Before Jack could defend himself, Tippin exploded, "My turn! That's quite enough, Vaughn. Nothing was done without my full knowledge and consent. Yes, it was Jack's plan to use a supposed relationship between us to set up a blind for Sloane and Sark."  
  
"But my God, Tippin, the risk," Vaughn protested.  
  
Will overrode him, "I am not a child. SD6 was always going to suspect me because I know too much, even though," he smiled, "I had to act like an idiot at times to convince them I was harmless. Luckily, as Jack said once, that wasn't too difficult." Everyone but Vaughn chuckled. Will went on, harshly this time, "Get real. My life was always in some level of danger from the first moment I got involved in the story on Danny so long ago. And Arvin Sloane was always going to look for a way to use me to hold Syd or Jack hostage. And if you don't think that Jack spent way more than sufficient time protecting me, then you don't know -- Jack." Will smiled, while Syd and Jack groaned.  
  
"Always with the jokes, Tippin?" Jack asked.  
  
"Just trying to lighten the mood a little. Anyway, Vaughn, you must not know Jack at all if you think he'd do anything to deliberately jeopardize the lives of the people Sydney cares about. What did do first thing tonight? Call Flaherty in to protect Francie and your teams in to protect the two of you, right?" "Right," Vaughn said slowly.  
  
"So, yeah, I pretended for a whole year. So, yeah, I took risks---"  
  
"You were pretending?" Syd gasped, thinking she could not believe it. That photograph of them almost kissing, that was no pretense. No one was that good at pretending, no one could manufacture that kind of intimacy unless they were Oscar contenders. And her dad was probably of that caliber, but Will? He always wore his heart on his sleeve, he was too open. And that little gesture in her bedroom after she'd found out about them, the touches on the arm and hand? No, that was real. And she thought of all the changes in her father, changes that had to be the result of love given and received. Only love could have healed him, she knew now, because it was love that had broken him originally. Whom was Will trying to protect? Jack. She spoke up, "Will, I don't believe you. Let my dad make his own decisions here."  
  
"Tippin, Sydney's right. Stop it," Jack protested.  
  
Will ignored them both, as he continued, "So, yeah, I took risks the last year. Life-changing risks. But I finally understood how Syd and especially Jack live. When your life is always in jeopardy, high risks become less risky. It's not that you have less to lose, but that you need to just live your life the way you feel you should because this is it, the only chance. Have you learned that lesson yet, Agent Vaughn?"  
  
Jack spoke up. "That's ENOUGH, Will. If anyone is going to lecture Vaughn, it's me. I am the one he insulted. And I'm not going to allow you to say--- "  
  
"No, Jack, I can see which way the wind blows. This should be the beginning of your moment of triumph after almost two decades of a nightmare, I don't intend that anything diminish that. Nothing." Will spoke with an intensity that drew all eyes to him.  
  
With equal intensity, Jack replied. "Let me tell you what will diminish that - continuing to pretend. I have spent decades pretending, no more. Absolutely not. Not here. SD6 is another story. Maybe. We'll see. But, I'll get to that in a moment. I need to give these junior agents a little lecture about holding yourself together while working double for as long as I have and address what Agent Vaughn has accused me of - that I would do anything. Yes, I said that to you, Michael, at one time. But of course, I was wrong. What I learned when I blew up that cottage in Madagascar is that there are limits to anything. When trying to defeat evil, you have to always keep in mind that evil is about hate. The way to keep hate and therefore evil out of you, when you shake hands with it daily, is to keep love in your life." He paused and looked at his daughter.  
  
"Syd talked about that path. You know what keeps you on the path? Love of family, friends, your nation, God, whatever works for you. You have to keep the goal, the destination, in mind: good triumphing over evil. As I said in the hearing when I turned myself in, I said that Sydney was my one chance of salvation. But then," he said taking a deep breath, "but then by playing house rules with the right house, by remembering that it wasn't evil who dealt the hands, I got lucky. I was given a second chance and I chose to take it. And that chance and my choice was Will," Jack said with unassailable dignity. He continued, "Devlin wanted to know the game theory I used? Here it is - stay as close to the truth as possible. There was no pretense about our relationship, just the fine points to confuse the enemy. Will was just trying to protect ME. Which is a switch, someone protecting me. But it's not necessary. Take it or leave it, I am who I am."  
  
That touch of hauteur that Jack could instantly summon stood him well. That and the fact that everyone was frightened of him, anyway, Syd thought with a smile. Will didn't know the awe everyone felt for Jack Bristow, awe combined with raw fear. Devlin may not like it, but as always Jack could care less. Jack didn't have anything to worry about, but she loved Will for trying to protect him. She leaned over and whispered that into Will's ear. He gave her a hug.  
  
Weiss suddenly exclaimed, "So Tippin wasn't a red herring? Or was he?"  
  
Jack rolled his eyes. "He was in the sense of keeping Arvin distracted right up to the end."  
  
"So, he went to his death thinking he was wrong? You intended that?" Weiss asked, trying to clarify what had gone on in the cage, or what remained of the cage.  
  
"Of course." "Why?" "To torment him."  
  
"Damn, that's cold," Weiss shook his head.  
  
"You know what they say about revenge, Weiss? It's a dish best served up cold. And it tasted damn good," Jack said calmly.  
  
"Now, that the impromptu lesson and completely unnecessary exploration of my personal life is over, NEVER to be repeated, let's get back to business," Jack demanded. He assigned agents to various clean up duties, reminding them that he needed Sloane's body to set up a funeral. It would be his job to arrange a funeral and deliver the official SD6 eulogy. Here he grimaced and asked Will if the eulogy was done yet. "Almost. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to write." "Just pretend you're writing fiction and you should be able to come up with something decent to say about him. Syd, you need to go to SD6 and pull in Dixon. Bring him over to Sloane's house. Will, Vaughn, Weiss and I will be there. We need to do some clean up."  
  
"Why Will?" Vaughn asked, for the first time opening his mouth since the lecturing had begun what seemed like hours before. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut around Jack?  
  
"Because there are some tapes I think he wants to recover," Jack whispered, but with a smile and a sideways glance at Will. "I could care less, but Tippin here..."  
  
"Oooh, yeah. Those tapes," Will whispered with a blush. Syd started to laugh, but also spoke in a hush. "Will, you are the one with no inhibitions."  
  
"Honestly, Syd, who wants - I mean, it was bad enough knowing they were taping, but, let's just say I've discovered I really don't want all of the CIA and then the internet having access to those tapes."  
  
"Okay, let's go," Jack said loudly.  
  
"Wait a minute," Kendall spoke up for the first time. "Jack, I just want to say that this whole game, this whole night in particular, took raw courage."  
  
"Kendall, are you giving me a compliment?" Jack asked, as everyone stared at the bald man in shock.  
  
"Yes, it will never happen again, so pay attention. This is why Jack Bristow is the best in the business, boys and girls. Raw courage, cold calculation, improvisation, endless research, and total unpredictability. That's what's needed to play this game. I hope you all learned something tonight. Jack, I do think you will make a wonderful teacher. And that way I'll never have to work with you again. I had hair before I met all of the Bristows." He paused to let the laughter subside, "And Jack's right, let's get moving." Everyone dispersed.  
  
Chapter 47: "Don't you think ...don't you feel like we make each other happy? And don't you think that's the important thing, the most important thing?" (Will Tippin)  
  
As Will and Jack walked away, Syd and Vaughn saw Jack look around. "Always cautious," Syd said to Vaughn. "I get your point. I was a fool," Vaughn answered.  
  
Seeing that only those two were near, Jack laughingly asked Will, "Are you sure, Tippin, about not wanting to be an agent?"  
  
"Ha. Ha. How many times did I say in the last year that I was no spy? Give me a desk job any day. It was bad enough wearing that ring full of explosives for four months. Never again."  
  
"I told you a million times that it was perfectly safe to wear that ring as long as I did not push the ignite button on the watch."  
  
"Yeah, that watch of death. That watch that you NEVER took off. 'Sure, Jack. Let's go to that restaurant with bizarre food. Sure, Jack, let's see that esoteric foreign movie with subtitles. Sure, Jack, let's listen to some opera, not Gilbert and Sullivan, but the real stuff? Sure, Jack, I'll wear my glasses instead of contacts every once in a while so you can take them off. Sure, Jack, let's throw out my corduroys and redo my wardrobe.' Sound familiar?" Will asked laughing.  
  
Jack said sardonically, "'Sure, Will, let's paint my dining room red instead of the perfectly-fine white it originally was. Sure, Will, let's walk five miles every morning. Sure, Will, I'll let my hair grow a little longer. Sure, Will, let's move your stuff in my study and make a huge mess.' Sound familiar?"  
  
Will broke up laughing, "And I wasn't even wearing the watch of death!"  
  
"No, you weren't. I believe it's called the art of the compromise."  
  
"Compromise? There was no compromise about my corduroys!"  
  
"Those stupid pants, again? Give it up, Tippin, they are not coming back. Didn't I buy tshirts to wear around the house as payment for that?"  
  
"Well, yeah, but."  
  
"Nothing. No one wears corduroy in LA. Seriously."  
  
"And that, Vaughn," Syd said as she walked toward her car, "That is why I called them the Will and Jack show. They are always fun to watch."  
  
Vaughn muttered, "Watch and learn, I think."  
  
Chapter 48: And so it ends.  
  
Much later that night or in reality early the next morning, Sydney and Vaughn followed Jack and Will out to a CIA destruction site. Standing in front of an industrial incinerator, Jack and Will tossed in box after box of cassette tapes. Watching them, Vaughn blurted out, "Did you really know they were taping you in Will's apartment and you just went ahead...?" He knew from a conversation between Will and Jack at Sloane's house that he had accidentally overheard that the tapes did include recordings of the couple's sexual activities. That was.creepy, well, way beyond creepy, to think of Sloane and Sark hearing that..He shuddered.  
  
Will noted Vaughn's involuntary movement and grimaced, "Yeah, we knew. We always had to be conscious of it. Sometimes we were playing to an audience like when we had blocks of conversations scripted out in advance, like the one in which we planned my move to Jack's house or him inviting Sloane to a play. I usually wrote those. Sometimes we were just.ourselves. Sometimes Jack would play opera really loudly so that they couldn't hear and to annoy my neighbors. And me. But you always had to be conscious of it, the taping. That's one reason why I eventually moved in with Jack. It just got to be a bit much for me, Jack didn't really care, he can play the game endlessly. But I couldn't take that...invasion of privacy anymore. And we figured they had enough to hang us already by that time. But Jack was also concerned about safety. It was true what he said about him being able to sleep. But from my point of view the best part was knowing that the only taping was from Francie's tote, which kind of limited the possibilities of embarrassment."  
  
"There are lots of memories in these tapes, Tippin. You're the sentimental one. Sure you want to destroy them all?" Jack teased.  
  
"Stop it," Will laughed, punching Jack's arm, while Sydney and Vaughn looked on in surprise at the interplay between the couple.  
  
Watching the two men, their silhouettes highlighted by the fire of the incinerator, Vaughn thought that the fire behind them was more than appropriate. They had been tested by fire, as individuals and as a unit, and come out ahead. "Their courage humbles me, in all ways," he said quietly to Sydney. He continued, "It makes me wonder if we---"  
  
"Didn't try hard enough?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Yeah, me too. Maybe we just needed to take more of a chance, not stupid chances, but be less afraid to risk losing. Be less willing to run away." Will must have heard the conversation because he looked up at them sharply.  
  
"Uh-oh, here comes some obnoxious question or comment, I recognize the look," Sydney warned. "So do I," Vaughn moaned in agreement.  
  
"You know," Will began. "Originally, Jack and I got to know each other out of our concern for you two. And here we stand tonight having been together for more than a year now and where are you two? It's kind of ironic, isn't it?"  
  
"Good point, Tippin. They either have way too much self control or they're just." Jack trailed off. "Stupid?" Will answered.  
  
"Hey!" both Syd and Vaughn yelped.  
  
"Honestly, Vaughn, just kiss the girl," Will said dismissively. Then chuckling, with a sidelong glance at Jack, he added, "That's how I got where I am today, just by being honest and kissing Jack. You never know where persistence will take you." Will stopped because Jack's hand was across his mouth.  
  
Jack's face looked a little redder, even with the glow from the fire. Syd and Vaughn stared at them. Will had made the first move? Well maybe that wasn't a surprise, but Syd said, "I don't want to know any more, Will." Jack agreed as he cleared his throat, "Ahem, they don't need that much detail, Tippin."  
  
Will protested, laughing, "But they do need a kick in the pants!"  
  
"Alright, already, we can't force them to kiss each other. Although maybe I'll have some free time soon and can come up with another plan."  
  
"Enough!" Vaughn scolded and then began laughing. "I can't believe this," he said as he reached for Sydney, "I can't believe that your father is prodding me to kiss you in front of him."  
  
Looking over, Sydney noted, "They're back to tossing tapes so I don't think he's paying any attention to us," as Vaughn's lips finally reached hers.  
  
After a while, noting absently that the clink of tapes hitting the sides of the incinerator had stopped, Sydney pulled back reluctantly. Resting her head against Vaughn's chest, she turned to face her father and Will. "What are they doing?" she asked softly. Vaughn's hands stopped roving her back and stilled. "I think this, these are the real thing," he said quietly.  
  
They watched as Jack handed a small pouch to Will. He pulled a second out of his pocket. Will smiled happily. "So, finally?"  
  
"Finally. What you wanted. With just a simple inscription inside. No codes. A simple ring."  
  
"One for each of us. And no C4 this time," Will quipped.  
  
"No, no explosives this time, just us," Jack said quietly. Watching the two exchange rings in front of the dying fire, Syd and Vaughn realized that they were watching a new start, the kind that comes after the ashes of the past have been cleared away.  
  
Walking away from the facility, Vaughn began, "Jack, I need to apologize. Initially, when Syd started talking about her concerns about Will's safety in a relationship with you-"  
  
Jack glared at Syd, "Sydney Bristow, did you or did you not make me a promise?"  
  
"Dad, I didn't tell him about the blackmail, I didn't!"  
  
Vaughn interjected, "No, she didn't Jack. She was, I think, trying to deflect me from what was going on, by asking me if I knew about you two."  
  
"Did you?" Will asked.  
  
Vaughn chuckled. "Tippin, I have got to tell you that you made a good choice when you said no to being a field agent. You just have the most open face. No duplicity. I knew from about ten minutes into that brunch how you felt about Jack. Jack, you of course, were impossible to read. But as I was saying, when Syd and I first began talking today, I said you would never endanger someone you cared about. And that was a truth I should have remembered. I have to say, that was part of my problem tonight. I didn't know what was real and what wasn't. I should have trusted my initial instincts. "  
  
Vaughn said looking down, "I have learned a lot from you, from all of you here tonight."  
  
"Thank you," Jack said.  
  
Vaughn looked back up and smiled, "But I find it hard to imagine you out of the field. A teacher?"  
  
"Yes. I've been thinking for a while about what I'll do after this is all done and teaching new agents.that's it."  
  
"Really?" Will asked with a grin, "I was thinking musical theater." Everyone laughed.  
  
Jack said, "Honestly, that was the worst part of this whole assignment this year, that karaoke bar. The damage to my dignity."  
  
Sydney linked her arm through her father's as they walked away and said jokingly, "Oh, I don't know, I was thinking we could all go there to celebrate tonight."  
  
Catching Will's eye, Jack said softly, "Not tonight. Tonight Will and I have a bottle of merlot to open. Just us two."  
  
"Seriously?" Will asked, smiling.  
  
"Seriously," they answered together.  
  
I have no road ahead of me where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself.I seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to face my perils alone. Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude.  
  
THE END 


End file.
